


Shadows of the Past

by Mykael



Series: Twinsverse [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gang Violence, Injury, M/M, Vigilantism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykael/pseuds/Mykael
Summary: Be the Batman Gotham needs. No boundaries or allegiances. Or self-important moral codes. Cross the line. That was what Talia had told him to do, and he intended to do just that; to become a better Batman, to do what needed to be done.





	1. Return

**Author's Note:**

> So I mentioned there would be another "Under The Red Hood" story, out of necessity. Buuut I've been thinking of mixing it up a bit. I've got some really good ideas, and it seems pretty ambitious. I just hope I'm not biting off more than I can chew, lol. xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I spent all day going back through old comics and such, trying to build this new part of the series, and I think I've got something interesting here. >:3 I opted to include the All-Caste in Jason's training in this version. I like the concept of the All-Caste; a group of warrior monks, thousands of years old, perfecting the art of combat, and all that other neat junk. But I didn't really care for the whole "Untitled" stuff. Like, at all. So we're just going to ignore that... xD
> 
> Anywho, enjoy. ^^

_Drowning…he felt like he was drowning…his first memory since his death…limbs thrashing in…water…couldn_ _’t breathe…he broke the surface…gasped for breath…mind scrambling…in shambles…no coherent thoughts…just moving…raw panic…muscle memory…punching…kicking…the flashes of familiar faces…then running…jumping…hiding…_

_His first coherent thought was of a cave, shivering, hiding in the darkness as he slowly cleared the fog in his mind and began pulling the pieces of his memory together like shattered glass. Then he heard a voice and looked to see Talia. The Lazarus Pit; that was how he came back. It had to be. He remembered seeing Talia’s face, seeing the fear but also concern._

_“Jason. You’re alive. How is your mind?” she asked, keeping her distance as if he were a dangerous animal. Jason grunted, raked his hands through his dark hair and heaved a sigh._

_“I’m…better…I think. My mind is…I died. The Joker killed me, didn’t he?” Jason asked softly. Talia’s posture relaxed and approached the teen, sitting down beside him._

_“Yes, Jason. The Joker killed you. But I have given you a second chance. Father is most displeased with me, so we must go,” she said to him, handing him some clothes. It was only after he took them, that he realized he was naked. He blushed crimson and Talia politely turned her back. Jason dressed quickly, heaving a sigh now that he was warm._

_“Tell me what happened,” Jason said, turning to the woman and demanding some answered. “Please.” Talia was silent for a time and considered her options, considered the consequences._

_“It will not be easy for you to hear,” Talia replied. Jason frowned but he still wanted to know. When he said nothing, Talia took that to mean that he wanted an answer. “You remain unavenged. The Joker still lives.”_

* * *

Jason Todd, garbed in black from head to toe with a red domino mask on, looked out over the dark and gloomy skyline of Gotham city, perched atop a building beside his favorite gargoyle. It had been five, almost six years since he’d last been here, been home. He’d been training with a group of warrior monks known as the “All-Caste” for four of the years he’d been gone. From there, with Talia’s fortune at his aid, he’d spent the next year or so training with various masters, from explosives, to fire arms, to toxins of all kinds. If he wanted to take on Gotham, to take on Batman, he was going to need the best masters and training possible.

For the last few days, he’d just been gathering intel. In the five years he’d been gone, he was completely unsurprised to find that things hadn’t changed a bit. From what he’d gathered, Batman had upset the balance of the Underworld considerable, recently. The void left behind had allowed the Falcone Crime Family to reclaim some of their former glory. Currently, The Falcone Crime Family and Black Mask were the two major players in the city, butting heads for complete control of Gotham.

After some investigation, Jason discovered that Sofia Falcone and her brother Mario, returned to Gotham with naught but the Falcone name and rebuilt the old Empire from practically scratch. “Falcone” was one of the few names that held much respect in the Gotham Underworld; they were, arguably, at their height, under Carmine Falcone. It was unsurprising though, to hear that the Falcones were back; they tended to turn up like a bad penny.

Under Sofia, however, The Falcone Crime Family was vicious, cruel, and downright evil. Sofia herself was a psychopath, devoid of morality. She led the Falcone Crime Family from the shadows, using Mario is a figurehead. She played the part of an innocent, sweet, kind, and naive girl, but for those who knew her? She was the exact opposite; a cruel, vicious, dishonorable, manipulative, and selfish. She was manipulating her brother, allowing him to believe he was in control, but behind the scenes, Sofia was the one who held all of the power.

Black Mask was feared throughout Gotham City, known for his sadistic and brutal personality, as well as his short temper. He was a ruthless crime lord, ruling through fear and blackmail. On the same dime however, the man was capable of going from brutal crime lord, to amicable businessman. What made him especially dangerous, was his willingness to challenge anyone, regardless of how powerful they were. His rise to prominence as a Crime Lord began with challenging the Falcone family while it was still in its prime.

Sofia Falcone and Black Mask made for a nasty duo. These two butting heads and waging war for control of Gotham’s Underworld made Gotham a very dangerous place. And with Batman refusing to do what needed to be done, in combination with Gotham’s revolving door prisons? His best efforts were not quite enough.

But there was a third element in play, a relatively neutral element that neither Sofia nor Black Mask had managed to recruit yet; The Penguin. The Penguin himself was an information broker of sorts, dealing primarily in information. That made him valuable. Furthermore, he had his grubby little hands buried deep into the weapons business, and dabbling in drugs. This third element was where Jason chose to begin, where he was going to change Gotham for the better.

 _Be the Batman Gotham needs. No boundaries or allegiances. Or self-important moral codes. Cross the line._ That was what Talia had told him to do, and he intended to do just that; to become a better Batman, to do what needed to be done.

Jason dug through his jacket pocket for a cigarette and lit it, taking a few puffs. He spotted the Bat Signal in the sky, in the distance, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of it. He’d been here in Gotham for a few days, having rented out an apartment under the alias “Jared Thomas.” But now, he was ready to set his plans into motion. He’d brought a gang over from Blüdhaven to give him a start.

From there, his next move had been to recruit the homeless; he promised them protection in exchange for information. Most of them made their home in an abandoned section of the subway beneath the Bowery. He’d made sure to visit them often, bringing them food, medication, clothes, even toys for the children. He remembered what it was like to be homeless in Gotham, so if there was anything he could do to make their lives easier, he would do it.

Jason dove down from the building and pulling out a grappling gun, flying through the air and landing on the ground below, beside his motorcycle. All of the pieces were moving into place and now it was just a matter of putting things into motion. He had his own gang from Blüdhaven for a good start but now he needed money, and what better place to start than the drug trade? On the same dime, he could keep drugs out of the hands of children; it was a good start.

His own lieutenants were already out, poaching the lieutenants of the Drug Lords of Gotham. The message was simple; join up with the Red Hood, or die. That was last night. The Drug Lords had sent a message back to him, in the form of his own men’s dead bodies. They didn’t take him seriously, which was unsurprising; a new face shows up in town and demands loyalty? Well, the Red Hood would just have to show them that he meant business.

So he arranged for a little meet up with Gotham’s most prosperous Drug Lords. They all worked for either Black Mask or Sofia Falcone, with the exception of a couple who worked for Penguin. The problem was, could they meet without killing each other? Well, he could make it work, regardless of whether they did or not.

As Jason arrived at the warehouse in question, he pulled on the red helmet and grabbed up an AK-47.

“It’s showtime,” he muttered to himself, the sounds of arguing already coming from the warehouse.

“This is bullshit! You bastards sold out ta Black Mask!” one of them men, a man named Freddy, shouted. He pointed accusingly at a large black man known as Tyler Bramford, who jumped out of his seat and pointed back.

“And you crawled your ass over to Mario Falcone! The Falcones are has beens!” Tyler shouted back. A woman of dark complexion and long black hair with gold earrings, pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

“You’re all a bunch of children. I came here to make a deal, not listen to a bunch of toddlers pitch fits,” Queenie said with disgust.

“More importantly, why are they here?!” Freddy shouted, pointed to two men, Leon and Marcus. “These clowns work for the Penguin! He ain’t shit--”

“At least the Penguin ain’t kissin’ Black Mask’s ass,” Leon snapped back, his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

“Or blowin’ Mario underneath his desk,” Marcus added with a smug grin.

“Fuck you,” Freddy snarled, pulling out a gun. Before a single shot could be fired, a duffel bag landed in the table in front of them. Startled, the whole lot of Drug Lords turned their attention onto the source and saw--

“The Red Hood,” Freddy said. Red Hood chuckled in amusement.

“Very observant of you.”

“I heard of you. You're that new player in town; the one makin’ moves against Black Mask and the Falcones,” Tyler added in.

“You’re correct, and I’m here to offer all of you a better job working for me. Open the duffel bag and have a peak, would you?” Hood said smoothly, gesturing toward the duffel bag with his AK-47. Freddy glared at him, but did as instructed. As he opened the bag, Tyler covered his mouth in order to stop from throwing up. Queenie looked like a mix between revolted and impressed, and both of Penguin’s men looked shocked, to say the least.

“What the fuck?” Tyler murmured.

“The heads of all your lieutenants. You killed my men, so I killed yours. I did all of this in a matter of a few hours. Give me a whole evening, and I’ll happily showcase my creativity,” Hood explained. Freddy turned to him and pointed at him.

“Yeah, you’re real tough, but you ain’t shit to Black Mask or the Falcones.”

“I beg to differ. Now here’s the deal; you work for me now, and you’ll kick up forty percent to me. In exchange, you’ll have protection from both the Falcones and Black Mask. I’ll deal with Penguin soon enough,” Red Hood began. He leaned against the railing, eyes narrowing. “But you stay away from school yards. No dealing to children, or I’ll kill you.”

The Drug Lords exchanged looks as if silently mulling the offer over in their heads.

“This is all very generous, but what makes you think you can take on the two biggest power houses in Gotham?” Freddy asked. Red Hood chuckled in amusement.

“Because I’m the Red Hood. This isn’t an offer; it’s a demand. You’re either with me, or against me. Ask your headless lieutenants there how the latter worked out for them.” Hood pulled out a smart phone and began typing out a text message. Moments later, all of the Drug Lords’ phones started to go off.

“This is how you can reach me when you’ve come to a decision, but make it quickly; I’m a very busy man. You’ve got twenty-four hours,” Hood told them.

“Wait, how did you get our--” Queenie began, as they all looked up to the catwalk where he had been, but he was gone.

The Red Hood jumped onto his motorcycle and raced down the streets of Gotham City; phase one was nearing completion. The next part would require a conversation with Cobblepot. He was…less than fond of the man, but Penguin was resourceful, He would be a useful tool for his plans, and a great source of information. Both Sofia and Black Mask had been trying to recruit him for months, with little success. Either one of them had the muscle to take him and his operation down, easily, but they’d lose access to his information network; The Penguin, with his wealth, had managed to score a few GCPD officers, detectives, and even a couple of judges, including the District Attorney.

As The Red Hood raced through the streets of Gotham, dodging cars, the Iceberg Lounge came into view minutes later. His eyes narrowed and his agitation flared at the idea of working with the likes of Cobblepot, but he reassured himself that it was necessary; when the time was right, he’d take care of _that_  problem too. For now, he’d play nice and try to get Penguin on his side.

Penguin was no fool, by any means. He knew what the man was doing, while The Falcones and Black Mask fought with each other; he was waiting to see who gained the upper hand first, gauging who had the best chance of winning. He was biding his time. The Red Hood was going to convince him, however, that he was the one to back in this war. He didn’t have nearly as much as Sofia or Black Mask…yet…

The Red Hood casually strolled inside Iceberg Lounge. The guards let him pass unperturbed, meaning that The Penguin knew he was coming. But of course he did; he must’ve thought that the Red Hood had something to offer him, to allow him through unhindered.

Naturally, Penguin was in his own private booth, surrounded by two beautiful women on either side of him. He glared at the man as one of the women poured him some wine. Reluctantly, The Red Hood made his way over toward the booth and sat across from the man.

“Ah, the Red Hood. I’ve been expecting you,” the man said smoothly, flashing a smug grin. Penguin’s short stature was nothing to scoff at; underestimating the Penguin was a quick way to get killed. Though he didn’t appear much, his looks were meant to deceive. He was quite the fighter, not in the league of the likes of Batman, but he possessed enough skill, especially with personal weaponry, to be a threat if he wanted to be.

“Of course you have. Then you know why I’m here.”

“Indeed,” the men began, sipping his wine. He looked down into the glass pensively and sloshed the red liquid around a little. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at the Red Hood and continued “you seek my allegiance in your war against Black Mask and Sofia Falcone.”

“So you know then that--”

“That her brother Mario is just a puppet? Ha! Obviously. Though respect where respect is due, he is much alike his father, Carmine. However, he lacks then…finesse...and the cunning to realize he’s being played.” Red Hood smirked a little under his mask; the Penguin hadn’t slipped even a little in all these years.

“Well played.”

“Let’s cut straight to business; only a fool would roll right into town and challenge the two strongest Criminal Empires right off the bat. A fool, or someone who knows what they’re doing,” the Penguin said in a low tone, eyeing The Red Hood curiously.

“I like to think I’m the latter. I have some experience dealing with the likes of Sofia and Black Mask. But more than that,” the Red Hood started, leaning back in his seat “I know how the Batman operates. I know his strengths, his weaknesses, his modus operandi. Let’s just say, I’m particularly qualified to face down all three of them. And when they all fall--”

“You take over Gotham City.”

“You can’t stop crime. But you can control it. There are things I won’t tolerate; anything that involves children, murder, and animal abuse. I have a soft spot for animals,” The Red Hood explained. Penguin snorted a bit.

“That last one I understand,” he replied, as an emperor penguin waddled over with a tray, carrying a bottle of wine.

“Otherwise, you’re free to do as you please.” The Penguin was silent for a time as he watched the Red Hood carefully. After a few minutes pause, the Crime Lord grinned and raised his glass.

“I’d say you’ve got yourself a deal. Here’s to our new partnership.” The Red Hood gave a nod in reply and then pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. He unlocked it and looked at the screen.

“Indeed. Unfortunately, I have an appointment to keep,” he said, pocketing his phone and rising from his seat. “I have a date with a certain Bat. It wouldn’t do to keep the big man waiting,” he said with a chuckle of amusement. The Penguin laughed and raised his glass again.

“Indeed…”


	2. Setup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bravo Nightwing. Bravo. I gotta say, I missed watching you work” he said. Nightwing turned to him, escrima sticks at the ready.  
> “You’re the Red Hood, that new player in Gotham,” Nightwing observed.  
> “Very astute observation,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3

Batman dodged out of the way of a hail of bullets, ducking behind some shipping crates. He had arrived at China Docks to interrupt a turf war between two different gangs, belonging to Black Mask and Sofia Falcone. There was a shipment coming in through China Docks; Gordon had gotten a tip about it though nobody knew quite what it was just yet. However, it seemed to be valuable enough that it was worth fighting over. That also meant that, whatever it was, it needed to be kept out of both their hands.

Batman jumped out from behind the shipping crate and threw a batarang. The thugs ducked out of the way and the batarang stuck in a shipping crate nearby. It beeped three times before it exploded, sending the thugs scattering and crashing into the other shipping crates. Batman turned as another group of thugs, Sofia’s, came racing around the corner of a stack of shipping crates. They aimed their guns at him, but before they could fire off a shot, several pellets exploded at their feet, billowing smoke everywhere. Batman’s eyes narrowed as the thugs shouted in pain on and fear. Minutes later, Nightwing came out of the smoke, twirling his escrima sticks in his hands.

“Heya Bats, need a hand?” Nightwing asked with a grin on his face.

“No,” Batman replied simply, as more of Black Mask’s thugs arrived via three vans, unloading men armed with fully automatic weapons.

“It’s the Bat! And Nightwing! Kill ‘em and get that shipment!” one of the men shouted. They opened fire and the two vigilantes dived out of the way to avoid the gunfire. Nightwing and Batman exchanged looks before, in tandem, they jumped out of cover and threw several pellets toward the thugs. They exploded, billowing more smoke out all around the area. The two of them jumped into action and started disabling the criminals, one by one. A couple of they tried to make a break for it, but Batman threw a bolas and snagged one.

“I got him,” Nightwing called, giving chase to the other guy. The man panted as he ducked around a corner. He was still carrying an assault rifle, but he had just watched Nigthwing and Batman take down his entire crew with minimal effort.

“Nice night for a walk, wouldn’t you say?” came a voice from nearby. The man turned and there stood the Red Hood, arms crossed, leaning back against one of the shipping crates.

“The Red Hood,” the man murmured in a mix of shock and fear. He hardened his gaze and turned his gun on the man. “I’ll get a huge bonus for offing you. Say your prayers, Hood,” the man said with a smug grin. Red Hood gave a chuckle of amusement, but didn’t move even a muscle.

“Well first, you have a guest to entertain,” he said, hooking a thumb toward Nightwing. The man turned in time to receive an escrima stick to the head. He grunted and stumbled backward. Nightwing rushed forward, and in a series of quick blows, he took the thug down and tied him up. The Red Hood clapped his hands as he pushed away from the wall of the shipping crate.

“Bravo Nightwing. Bravo. I gotta say, I missed watching you work” he said. Nightwing turned to him, escrima sticks at the ready.

“You’re the Red Hood, that new player in Gotham,” Nightwing observed.

“Very astute observation,” he replied. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Batman drop down behind him.

“You’re cornered Red Hood. You have nowhere to run to,” Batman said, eyes narrowing. Red Hood chuckled in amusement and shrugged his shoulders.

“On the contrary; you two will be doing the running,” he answered. He glanced over his shoulder at Nightwing, then looked back to Batman. “We can do this little song and dance where you two attempt to apprehend me, or--” he began, pausing for dramatic effect.

“Or?” Nightwing asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Or you can stop Penguin’s men from poaching that shipment of Red Sun Radiation weapons and Kryptonite,” The Red Hood answered. Nightwing’s eyes widened a bit in shock to learn what was in that shipment, but Batman remained passive. “You’d better hurry; Penguin’s men will be greeting that boat right about now. I’m assuming you want to protect your Krytonian friends, no? So what’s it gonna be?”

“Nightwing. You intercept the Penguin’s forces. I’ll handle the Red Hood,” Batman said in a low tone.

“But--”

“Go.”

Nightwing hesitated for a moment before firing a line up to the top of the shipping crates and disappearing into the night. The Red Hood watched him go, then turned his attention onto Batman.

“Hmm. This should be fun. Been a while since I’ve seen you in action,” The Red Hood said to him in a smug tone. Batman said nothing and instead, whipped several batarangs at Red Hood. Hood back flipped to avoid them, throwing out several mini-grenades to halt Batman’s advance. He then turned and ran. “My apologies though; I’ve got a busy night ahead of me, so no time to play! Rain check?” Hood called back, throwing several explosive shurikens of his own at the shipping crates above. As Batman pursued him, they exploded and the crates started toppling down on top of him.

Batman was forced to retreat in order to avoid being crushed. But as they crates fell, he pulled out a grappling gun and fired a line, jumping over the falling crates and pursuing the Red Hood from above. The Crime Lord in question jumped onto a getaway car and raced off. Batman’s eyes narrowed as he summoned the Batwing and climbed up into it. He took off after The Red Hood, who was racing through the streets of Gotham at dangerously high speeds, dodging cars and pulling off tight turns to avoid him.

Batman wasn’t about to let him get away that easily though. He fired a hook from the Batwing down at the Red Hood’s car; it penetrated the roof and he pulled began, beginning to lift the car off of the street.

“Cute,” Red Hood muttered to himself, reach out of the window and pulled on come clips that held the roof on. The roof came off and the Batwing pulled away without the car. Batman growled and continued the pursuit. Red Hood pulled a tight turn, and then raced right toward Ace Chemical Plant, crashing right through a garage door. Batman dropped out of the Batwing and made his way inside, through one of the windows on the upper level. He rolled to a stop on one of the catwalks and proceeded slowly through the building.

He glanced out over the bubbling tubs of chemicals below, putting on a rebreather, just in case, to protect against the fumes rising from the tubs. He stopped by a particular section of the railing that looked somewhat newer than the rest of it.

“Hard to forget that night, isn’t it?” came the Red Hood’s voice. Batman looked around and spotted the Red Hood, unarmed, on a catwalk in front of him at a higher elevation. “The sight of another great failure. Perhaps your greatest,” The Red Hood went on. Batman’s eyes narrowed, but the Red Hood just sucked in a deep breath.

“Ah memories,” he said, pulling a switch out of his pocket. Batman’s eyes widened a bit as he raced back toward the window through which he’d come. Red Hood pressed the button and vats of chemicals began exploding, covering his own escape.

Batman rolled across the ground to a stop as he escaped the building, glaring at it in silence. The Red Hood had gotten away from him…

* * *

“What?! How did that jackass Mario get the tip on my shipment?!” Black Mask shouted into the phone. He growled to himself as the man on the other end continued to explain the situation. “Of course Batman stopped it. But Nightwing too? The fuck is with these damn bats? What about that new player? He’s hittin’ Sofia too? Looks like we got a contender on our hands.” While Black Mask was on the phone, his assistant, Li, entered the room with a phone in hand.

“Sir--” the man aid, pushing his glasses up his nose. Black Mask broke the phone in his hand and threw the destroyed device into the trash. He looked over at his assistant and glared at him.

“What do you want?” Black Mask asked, perturbed.

“Do you remember that new player we discussed a few days ago?” Li asked. Black Mask glowered at Li, waiting for an answer. “He’s on the phone. For you,” Li finished, handing the phone to Black Mask.

“What do you want?” Black Mask asked, snatching the phone from Li.

“Well hello there Mr. Sionis. Or do you prefer Roman? Black Mask? Blackie? Mr. Mask?” Red Hood asked, tossing a piece of red rock in his hand.

“Black Mask will do. Get to the point,” Black Mask snapped.

“I believe I have something of yours. Your shipment at China Docks, as you know, didn’t quite make it through,” Red Hood said smoothly. Black Mask growled again and pounded his desk.

“But lemme guess; you got it, amiright?”

“A piece of it. I’m sitting on over a hundred pounds of Kryptonite,” the Red Hood replied.

“Shit…I’m gonna need that back,” Black Mask replied.

“Hmm. I think not,” Red Hood replied.

“That shipment is mine, you little prick.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. But you’re missing one crucial detail,” Red Hood replied.

“And what would that be?” Black Mask asked.

“I don’t give a shit,” Red Hood replied, leaning back against the open crate. Black Mask heaved a sigh, growling lowly to himself.

“I don’t suppose there’s anyway I can convince you to just give it back?”

“I suppose I could be persuaded. What’s in it for me?”

“For one, I don’t kill you. For two, I don’t gut you and string your insides all over my office like Christmas tinsel. And third, I’ll give you a job. Come work for me,” Black Mask replied. There was a silence from the other end of the phone.

“Nah. I don’t want to work for you. I'm doing pretty well on my own, thanksm" the Red Hood replied, smirking underneath his helmet.

“Then what is it that you want?” Black Mask asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“How about a tremendous amount of money?” Red Hood answered, examining a piece of Red Kryptonite with interest.

“How much are we talkin’ here?”

“How about thirty million?”

“Thirty million? What’re you trying to budget a god damn movie?” Black Masked snapped.

“Thirty million?! Is this guy nuts?!” Li shouted. Black Mask covered the receiver on the phone and glared at Li.

“No, this guy ain’t fuckin’ around. The crazy ones would build a god damn suit of armor out of that Kryptonite and march on Metropolis. This guy knows what he’s doin’,” Black Mask replied.

“You’re not seriously considering giving it to him, are you?!” But Black Mask ignored him for the moment.

“Thirty million is a lot. I don’t have that kinda money just lyin’ around, but I’ll make you a deal,” Black Mask started.

“I’m listening,” Hood replied.

“Four million cash, today. Ten million on a wire transfer after I get my Kryptonite.”

“You’re not seriously considering paying him off, are you?!” Li shouted. Black Mask slammed his hands on the desk and glared at Li.

“Jesus Christ Li, will you shut the hell up? It’s like trying to run a Criminal Organization with my god damn mother,” Black Mask snapped at him.

“You’ve got a deal. Sending the details. Pleasure doing business with you, Mask,” the Red Hood replied. “Oh, and if you’re having any thoughts of fucking me over, don’t. I don’t have a problem dumping this crate into the Gotham harbor.” With that, the Red Hood ended the call. Looking down at his phone, he dialed the number for Mario Falcone.

“Who is it?” Mario asked.

“It’s the Red Hood. I’m about to do you a big favor, Mr. Falcone.”

* * *

Bruce sat at the Batcomputer hours later, having pulled a late night alongside Nightwing, to break up yet another gang war. He had detected Kryptonite in the city earlier that night but when they arrived on the scene of the fight, it turned out that both sides were fighting over a crate full of children’s toys.

“This Red Hood sure knows what he’s doing. He’s good. Too good,” Dick said smoothly, moving across the cave, still in full Nightwing gear, sans the mask. “From the intel we’ve gathered from the thugs we’ve interrogated, it almost seems like he orchestrated everything that had happened tonight.”

“Indeed. It was all too convenient for it to be any other way. The only one who profits from all of this is The Red Hood,” Bruce replied without looking away from the computer. “Trafficking is also up, but crime is down, ignoring the gang wars that have broken out between Black Mask and the Falcones.

“From what I’ve gathered, Penguin has profited a bit too, since The Red Hood showed up. You don’t think they’re working together, do you?” Dick asked, leaning against the back of the man’s chair. Bruce’s eyes narrowed as he continued sifting through all of the data.

“No. The Red Hood seems to operate on some kind of moral code that runs counter to Penguin’s. Penguin isn’t a partner. He’s a puppet,” Bruce replied. Dick frowned as he looked at the image of the Red Hood up on the screen.

“The bad guys are learning,” he murmured.

“Yes. So it would seem.”

* * *

The Red Hood sat across from Penguin at the Iceberg Lounge. The Penguin was smoking a cigar and was glaring at the Red Hood. He was not happy.

“All those crates of alien tech and weaponry, and over a hundred pounds of Kryptonite…all gone. I’m not pleased,” Penguin growled. The Red Hood shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Shit happens,” Red Hood replied.

“This partnership of ours is not off to a good start--”

“Relax, everything is fine,” Red Hood replied, sliding a briefcase across the table to Penguin. Penguin glowered at him a little more before he opened the case and saw over four million dollars inside. “And here’s some from Mario Falcone,” he added, sliding another briefcase across the table. Penguin opened it, and sure enough, there was another four million inside. Penguin laughed as he closed the cases and set them aside.

“How the hell did you scam both Black Mask and Mario Falcone out of eight million dollars?” Penguin asked with a smug grin. The Red Hood gave a chuckle of amusement and leaned against the table.

“I promised them both a massive shipment of Kryptonite that neither of them will get. They’re busy killing themselves over a crate full of toys,” the Red Hood replied. The Penguin let out a cackle of amusement, slapping the table.

“Brilliant move, kid. You’re better than I thought you were. What about Batman and Nightwing?”

“Don’t you worry about them,” Red Hood replied, getting up from the table. He made his way for the exit and muttered to himself “everything is going according to plan…”


	3. Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bruce, I left you a little present. Click the file and have a look. And don’t say I never gave you anything._  
>  ~The Red Hood.

Jason made his way down into the abandoned subway where the homeless he’d been personally looking after, were located. He was garbed in his Red Hood gear, sans the helmet. He wore a black leather jacket, black gauntlets, combat boots, paramilitary pants, and a black triple Kevlar weave vest with a black utility belt around his waist with two Jericho 941’s at his side.

He liked to check on the people down here from time to time to make sure they were doing alright. The homeless were an invaluable source of information; they were invisible to the more fortunate people in Gotham, and so people let slip all sorts of rumors and secrets in front of them all the time. But unlike any other criminal scum bag in this city, Jason gave them a choice; they weren’t forced to work with him.

“Hey, it’s him! It’s the Red Hood!” a little boy, garbed in ragged clothing chortled. A couple of other young boys and a couple of little girls came running up to him excitedly. “Did you bring us anything Mr. Hood?” one boy asked, who was no older than five. Jason knelt down in front of the children, patting the boy’s head and flashing a smile. He glanced back toward the entrance of the subway, put two fingers in his mouth, and whistled loudly. Four men, some former homeless now working with The Red Hood, came down the stairs with several duffel bags. Queenie followed after them, carrying a box herself.

The Kids started to get excited, and one of them men opened one of the duffel bags he was carrying. He smiled brightly at the children's excitement as he started passing out toys to the children. Jason knelt down beside the man and pulled out a stuffed unicorn toy and gestured for a small girl, no older than five, to come over. The little blonde girl shyly came over and Jason handed her the doll. Her little face lit up as she took it and hugged it.

“There you go, little one. Have fun,” Jason said to her, flashing a smile. The little girl ran up to him and hugged him.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear before running off to play with the other children. Jason got back up to his feet and looked over the rest of his men.

“Take the medical supplies to the new doctor,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to a room behind him that acted as a makeshift clinic. “And pass out the food. Make sure everyone eats. And Queenie,” Jason paused, turning toward Queenie.

“Yes sir?” Queenie asked.

“Keep this quiet.” Queenie snorted, waving her hand dismissively.

“You ain’t gotta worry about that shit. I know what it’s like to grow up like this. I busted my ass to get to where I am,” she replied. Jason smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I know. That’s why you’re my right hand. Did you deal with that pig, Steven Drake?” Jason asked. Queenie made a disgusted face.

“He’s dead. Gutted that pervert and dumped him in the harbor,” she replied. Jason gave a nod in reply and patted her shoulder.

“Good. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a child abuser. Now,” he began, turning back to the rest of his men “status report on The Falcones. Any news?” he asked.

“Sir, Sofia Falcone is restarting the orphanage ‘Home for Wayward Boys’ on Crime Alley. She makes it seem like some sunny little orphanage, but in the back, she’s running a side business with the more…unruly children.”

“That so?” Jason asked, eyes narrowing as he recalled his time at that very orphanage, back when Faye Gunn, a.k.a Ma Gunn, was in charge. Batman, who he learned later was actually Bruce Wayne, had sent him to live at the orphanage. Only it wasn’t an orphanage, but rather a training ground for future criminals. He had helped Batman shut it down and sent Ma Gunn to prison. Sofia, however, seemed to think it was worth re-opening.

“Yes sir. It’s more in the dark than when Ma Gunn was in charge and she’s not just raising these kids to be criminals. She’s raising future Falcone cronies.” Jason growled lowly to himself; Sofia only ever cared about herself, about her own power. It was doubtful that Mario had any idea what she was really up to, doubtful that anyone knew what she was up to.

“Can we pin her to it?” Jason asked.

“No sir. She bought it and re-opened it, but it’s run by a woman named ‘Esther Faye’. Sweet old woman by all accounts.”

“Sweet old woman my ass. She’s a scapegoat. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of that soon enough,” Jason replied. He turned away from his men and gestured for one of them, and Queenie to follow, while he walked through the subway to check things out. Life was improving down here and it was starting to look like its own Under City.

“Queenie, how are things on the East Side?” Jason asked.

“Good. Drug sales are up and my people are keeping their eyes peeled for anyone dealing to kids. They’re dealt with immediately. No concerns there.”

“Good. Brian, tell me how things are down here? Place looks better, but--”

“Well with the money you’ve been pumping in down here, we’ve got all the medical supplies and food we could need. We’re a little short on clean water though. And we could use another doctor and some more clean clothes.”

“Consider it done. Queenie?”

“Understood boss,” Queenie replied, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She walked off and got to work on making sure that those orders will filled. Jason turned to Brian and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And do any of the Local Crime Lords know what’s going on down here?”

“No sir.”

“Good. Make sure it stays that way. Anonymity and invisibility are the best defenses. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check in with David,” Jason said to him. The man gave a nod and Jason continued on his way, alone. He made his way inside of what used to be a lounge where he found David James, a.k.a “Blackjack”, a.k.a Jason’s childhood friend, working on some kind of checklist. “Blackjack,” Jason called. Blackjack turned to The Red Hood and flashed a grin.

“Boss, hey. What can I do ya for?” he asked.

“How’s the smuggling operation going? Need any more hands on deck to make sure supplies for this place aren’t tracked?”

“Nah, we got it handled, boss. Some of Queenie’s men managed to steal some old blueprints of the Gotham Subways. We found a few abandoned access tunnels that lead to here so we’ve been usin’ ‘em to stay invisible.”

“Good. Run into any trouble with Black Mask or the Falcones?”

“Just a few skirmishes with his men. Though Black Mask has been gettin’ a bit aggressive. And it seems Sofia’s lookin’ for ya,” Blackjack explained. Jason frowned; that didn’t sound ominous at all.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. She started with the Narrows. Been gettin’ ugly there. She’s taken over that neighborhood and has a tight grip on ‘em. None of them know about you though, but it hasn’t stopped her from squeezin’ ‘em for info.”

“I see. We’ll have to deal with that. Thanks for the info,” Jason replied.

“No problem boss,” Blackjack replied, getting back to his work. Jason made his way out of the room, and toward he exit of the subway tunnel. Once he was back outside, he made his way over to his motorcycle, grabbing his helmet and pulled it on. He then hopped on the bike and peeled away, racing off down the busy streets of Gotham. As if on cue, the Bat Signal appeared in the sky above. Jason looked up toward it and frowned, then turned his bike toward Wayne Manor.

“Time to pay the batcave a little visit,” he murmured to himself, lips tugging into a grin. Jason raced off toward Wayne Manor, which sat Northeast of the city. It was a good ten minute drive before the manor came into view. He drove well past it and toward a heavily wooded area where he knew of a few entrances to the cave. Particularly, and old well that Bruce had fallen down as a kid when he first discovered the caves underneath Wayne Manor. Jason parked his motorcycle and hopped off of it, engaging its cloaking. He moved over toward the well, giving it a dark glare before deploying a line and dropping down into it.

He stood before a tunnel that he knew led into the Batcave itself, and a quick scan with visorr optics revealed what he already knew; the security had been upgraded a few times since he’d last been here. Jason smirked to himself and brought up a holographic display on his gauntlet.

“This should take me a whole ten seconds,” he muttered to himself, hacking into the Cave’s security system. It helped that he knew the place like the back of his hand, too. The security itself may have received a few upgrades, but the software remained largely unchanged. “Oh hey, eleven seconds. Still pretty good,” Jason said to himself, turning off the security cameras while he was at it. He made his way into the cave, bearing in mind that the Cave’s fail-safes would over-ride his hack within five minutes.

With the security down, Jason dropped down into the main hub of the cave and quickly made his way over to the Batcomputer. He was stopped, however, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He looked over toward a series of display cases and his eyes widened in surprise. Jason approached them…and stopped in front of one that held his old Robin costume. He looked it over and saw a picture frame on the floor in front of it; it was his ‘graduation’ photo that Alfred took of him and Batman, in costume. Jason looked back up at the costume and instead of good memories, all he could remember was Bruce’s betrayal; his unwillingness to avenge him, to let his death go unpunished!

“Fuck you, Bruce,” Jason growled lowly, half tempted to destroy the display case. He quickly made his way over to the Batcomputer and plugged a flash drive into it and began uploading the data from it into the computer. He glanced over at the clock on the computer, noting that he had two minutes before the fail-safes kicked in. Finally, his work was done and he grabbed the flash drive and left a little message on the computer for him before making his exit.

* * *

Batman and Nightwing both returned to the Batcave, Batman in the Batmobile and Nightwing on his Nightcycle. It had been a rough night tonight, considering they had a killer android on their hands. Black Mask had inexplicably acquired Amazo, an android capable of copying the abilities of any metahuman, and already in possession of all the powers of the members of the Justice League. And then of course, there was yet another chase with the Red Hood across town; this time across the roof tops and into a trap the Red Hood had set for them at a train station. Fortunately, the two of them had managed to get out unscathed. Mostly.

“Damn, this Red Hood guy is good. Like, seriously good. He’s well trained, well armed, even well informed,” Dick said smoothly, following Bruce across the cave as he peeled off his domino mask. Bruce removed his cowl, listening to Dick but opting not to comment. They’d been through this already, but Dick had always been a bit…chatty.

“So it would seem,” Bruce replied as he stopped in front of the computer.

“I mean, this guy isn’t just some run-of-the-mill thug. He knows what he’s doing and--” Dick began when he was interrupted by what he saw on the screen of the Batcomputer. “What the…” Dick muttered, staring at it wide-eyed.

 _Bruce, I left you a little present. Click the file and have a look. And don’t say I never gave you anything._ _~The Red Hood._

What was worse, was there was a dagger embedded in the desk nearby with a recording device attached to it. Bruce grabbed the dagger and pulled it out, pulling the recording device free from it.

“How the hell did he get into the cave?! How did he even know where to find it?! And how does he know out identities?!” Dick asked, completely taken aback. It was logical to assume that if he knew Batman’s, he knew Nightwing’s as well.

“I don’t know,” Bruce replied with a grim expression on his face as he sat at the computer.

* * *

“Shit! You’re tellin’ me this Red Hood stole our god damn drugs, and then recruited our men from underneath us?!” Mario shouted into the phone, sitting as his desk at Falcone Mansion. He listened to the man on the other end and heaved an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dammit,” Mario cursed, hanging up the phone. He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands

“Something wrong, brother?” Sofia asked softly as she sauntered into her brother’s office. Mario looked up at his sister and waved his hand dismissively, accompanied with an exasperated sigh.

“This ‘Red Hood’, the new player, is costin’ us millions. First he fucked us on the Kryptonite, and now he’s poachin’ our drugs _and_ our people,” Mario explained, scrubbing his face with his hands once more. “Dammit. You were right; I shoulda moved on this bastard from the get go.”

“Yes. You should have,” Sofia replied, grabbing a chair and sitting on the other side of the desk, across from her brother. “The Falcone Family became an Empire because of our tough stance against our enemies. Daddy knew when to fight, and how,” she explained, crossing her legs.

“So what’re you suggesting?” Mario asked. Sofia flashed a little smirk and lightly shrugged her shoulders.

“That depends. What do you think father would have done in this situation?” she asked. Mario frowned a bit and sat back in his chair, considering the answer carefully.

“He’d’ve attacked this jackass. A show of force. Let the guy know the Falcones ain’t to be fucked with,” Mario replied. Sofia smiled at him and gave a nod of approval.

“And so he would have,” Sofia replied, rising from her seat across from her brother. “Allow me to handle this, brother,” she offered, but Mario shook his head and waved her off.

“Nah. I’d like you to keep ya nose clean. Stick to legit stuff. I don’t want ya gettin’ into nay trouble.” Sofia gave a soft laugh and shook her head lightly.

“That’s awfully sweet of you brother, and I appreciate the gesture, but I’m a Falcone too, and we’re in this together,” Sofia replied. She sauntered toward the exit and stopped to look back at her brother. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty every once in a while. Trust me; I’ll take care of this. You focus on keeping things afloat.”

“Are you sure, Sofie?” Mario asked, turning his chair toward the door. Sofia gave a curt nod.

“I’m sure. But--” she began, making her way toward the middle of the room “if it would put you at ease, why don’t you tell me what _you’d_  like to do, and I’ll see it done?” Mario was silent for a time as he contemplated his options.

“He’s got that club down in The Bowery. I say we hit it; send a message to the bastard,” Mario answered. Sofia smiled and gave a nod of her head.

“Very well. Leave it to me,” Sofia replied and then retreated from the room. She made her way across the hallway and to her bedroom, slipping inside and closing the door quietly behind herself. She made her way over to the nightstand beside her bed and grabbed up a black cell phone, an untraceable burn phone, and punched in a number.

“Yes, hello. This is Sofia Falcone. I need a favor. You have connections to Arkham Asylum, yes? Good, here is what I want,” Sofia said in an even tone. “Get me the Scarecrow.”


	4. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me…what is it you fear most?” Scarecrow muttered to himself, giving a demented cackle.

“Oswald Cobblepot, otherwise known as “The Penguin”, was arrested today on charges of weapons trafficking, smuggling illegal technologies, blackmail, extortion….”

Jason leaned back in his arm chair, sipping his beer and watching the news with a sense of satisfaction. The information he’d left for Batman was more than enough to send Penguin off to Blackgate and clear the board for The Red Hood to move in and take over. Sofia and Black Mask both jumped at the opportunity, but The Red Hood had already beaten them to the punch; his own men had made Penguin’s an offer and so far, most of them had accepted.

As the Penguin was was seen screaming about his innocence on TV, Jason’s lips canted upward into a sly smirk. Everything was going according to plan, though he was sure there was a wrench coming soon; when dealing with psychopaths like Sofia Falcone, it did well to be prepared for the unexpected.

Jason glanced up at the clock and noted that it was well past three in the morning; perhaps it was time for a little rest. Jason heaved a sigh and padded into the kitchen, putting the half empty bottle of beer back in the fridge, then padded into his bedroom, raking a hand through his hair.

Sleeping was something he didn’t do well, and hadn’t since the day he’d been resurrected. His nights had been plagued by nightmares ever since, and so he only slept as much as he needed and nothing more. These days, the nights were easier, yet even still…

Jason stripped down and pulled on a pair of black silk pajama pants and climbed into bed. He lay there, wide awake for several long moments…almost afraid to close his eyes…after a few deep breathing exercises, he closed his eyes and after mere minutes, he found sleep…

_“Well, well, well, what have we here? Looks like a little birdie whose left the nest!” The Joker said with a wicked grin. Jason growled and struggled against his restraints; he was garbed in his Robin gear and he was a teenager again. He looked around, but the room was empty, dark, save for himself and the Joker._

_“Screw you,” Jason ground out. The Joker made a mock sad face and fake cried._

_“Aw, you hurt my feelings,” The Joker replied. His fake frown turned into a wicked grin as he patted his crowbar. “Time to hurt yours. And a few other things!” The Joker cackles as he struck Jason with the crowbar, over and over._

_Jason growled and finally broke free from his bonds. He grabbed the crowbar as the Joker brought it down at him and yanked it from his hand. As he got to his feet, he swung, but the crowbar flew threw empty air. Suddenly, Jason found himself surrounded by perpetual darkness…and the maddening laughter of the Joker from the abyss…_

Jason bolted up in his bed, gasping for breath, anxiety at peak levels and his face and body covered in a light sheen of sweat. He was immediately alerted to a banging noise at his door. Jason got out of bed and grabbed a handgun, hiding it behind his back. He stopped in front of the door and looked through the peep hole; it was just his neighbor, Kevin. He sighed and opened the door partway, just enough to poke his head out.

“Hey Jared, is everything alright? Was on my way back from a graveyard shift when I heard a crashing sound comin’ from your place.” Jason waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.

“No, yeah, everything is fine, Kev. Just…a really bad dream, I guess. Knocked over a lamp,” Jason replied tiredly.

“Are ya sure? I--”

“I’m sure, thanks. Go see your daughter,” Jason replied, flashing a smile. Kevin hesitated, then gave a nod and retreated to his apartment next door. Jason sighed and closed his own door, raking a hand through his hair.

“I’ll be more than fine, soon enough.”

* * *

“Tell me…what is it you fear most?” Scarecrow muttered to himself, giving a demented cackle. He hid up in the rafters of one of the Red Hood’s warehouses; his men were moving drugs and money from a couple of trucks that they had stolen from the Falcones. The doctor pulled the pin out of the fear gas grenade in his hand and giggled to himself. “Hehe, time to test out this latest concoction.” With that, the Scarecrow dropped the canister down into the middle of the warehouse below.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” one of the men shouted. They started breaking into coughing fits which quickly followed by screams of terror. Scarecrow laughed darkly as the men pulled out their guns and started killing each other.

“Perfect. Absolutely wonderful!” he exclaimed, pulling a phone out of his pocket. “Begin the operation. Release the fear gas,” the Scarecrow said, followed by a demented giggle.

All over the city, reports started breaking out about Fear Gas attacks making people go crazy with fear; the majority of those affected were, naturally, Red Hood’s men. However, some of Black Mask’s had also been targeted in the Fear Gas attacks.

“Nightwing, are you--” Batman started to ask asked over the Batmobile’s radio.

“Already on it. Heading to the club down in the Bowery, the Baret Rouge, now. How many other locations are in trouble?” Nightwing asked through his helmet’s comm link, as he raced through the streets of Gotham on his Nightcycle.

“Seven. Including one of the Red Hood’s clubs, three warehouses in the Bowery, two in Uptown Gotham, and another club in Midtown,” Batman replied. Nightwing snorted in response.

“Wow, we’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we? Sure would be nice to have Red Robin here,” Nightwing replied.

“He’s with the Teen Titans,” Batman replied.

“I know. We’ll just have to make due,” Nightwing answered. He revved the engine a bit and then ramped up the speed. Even before the club came into sight, he could hear screaming and gun fire. When the club finally came into view, people were fleeing from the scene. Nightwing parked his motorcycle in an alley nearby and engaged the cloaking, then made his way toward the club, escrima sticks at the ready. Nightwing made his way inside to see corpses littering the floor with a several injured and looking terrified, while others were fighting and shooting at each other.

“It’s bad,” Nightwing murmured. He spotted the destroyed canister on the floor nearby, but saw no sign of Scarecrow himself. Now wasn’t the time to think about that though; he had to put these guys down before things got even further out of hand.

“Sorry guys, but I’m doing this for your own good,” Nightwing murmured, electrifying his escrima sticks. He charged at the terrified people and began taking them down, one by one. They kept screaming about some imaginary monster or other, but were too scared to put up an actual defense. It made incapacitating them that much easier. At the same time though, the fear was making them erratic, and thus still dangerous. It was nothing Nightwing couldn’t handle, however.

“Done here at the club. I’m gonna head to the nearest warehouse now. How’re you doing?” Nightwing asked.

“I’ve just neutralized the the warehouse in Midtown. I’m moving up to Uptown Gotham now. Coordinating with Commissioner Gordon; the GCPD will move in and take those infected with the Feat Gas to Arkham Asylum until an antidote can be devised,” Batman answered.

“Sounds like as good a plan as any. Nightwing out.”

Nightwing took his Nightcycle and raced onward toward the nearest of Red Hood’s warehouses, and sure enough, it was in utter chaos. He could ear gunfire, shouting, screaming, and one man ran out of the warehouse on fire.

“Shit,” Nightwing blurted out, stopping the motorcycle and jumping off, throwing some foam pellets at the man, designed to help but out fires. He dropped to the ground and the fires were out out; Nightwing knelt by his side to make sure he was still alive. “We’re gonna need another ambulance or two at my locations,” Nightwing said. An explosion sounded moments afterward. “Make that three.”

Without another word, he made his way inside the warehouse; “utter chaos” was an understatement. But Nightwing spotted the one responsible for it almost immediately. Scarecrow was up in the rafters, watching the chaos below, and laughing.

“Scarecrow!” Nightwing shouted, grappling up to to him. Scarecrow turned to Nightwing, looking unimpressed.

“Well, if it isn’t Nightwing. The first Boy Blunder. I was expecting a real threat, like Batman,” Scarecrow taunted.

“Batman’s busy at the moment, but I promise you, I’m threat enough,” Nightwing replied, flashing a grin.

“I highly doubt that,” Scarecrow replied, brandishing a sickle in one hand and a syringe-glove in the other. The two of them were distracted immediately as a motorcycle broke through a window on the first floor; The Red Hood jumped off of the motorcycle and began raining bullets down on the thugs fighting below.

“The game’s over, Scarecrow. You run along and tell your boss, Sofia, that she just made the top of my shitlist,” The Red Hood called without looking up to see if he was even there.

“Well, he knows how to make an entrance,” Nightwing said, his eyes a little wide.

“You’ll both be making an exit,” Scarecrow hissed, lunging in at Nightwing. Nightwing flipped backward to avoid the sickle, then again to avoid Scarecrow’s syringe-glove. “Hold still; this will only hurt for a second,” Scarecrow taunted. As he came in for another strike, Nightwing flipped over his head and into the air. He landed on Scarecrow’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his neck, then bent backwards and with all his strength, he lifted Scarecrow off the floor. He flipped the man over and slammed him into the ground. Scarecrow grunted in pain and swung at Nightwing, as the acrobat attempted a follow up attack. Nightwing hissed as the syringe-gauntlet stuck into his calf.

“Show me your fear,” Scarecrow hissed. Nightwing growled in pain, but powered through it to deliver a single, electrified escrima strike to Scarecrow’s head, knocking him out cold. He glanced down at the carnage below to find that, surprisingly, most of the thugs were still alive, barring a corpse here of there. He hopped down and went in search of the Red Hood and found him surrounded by a half dozen unconscious thugs.

“Red Hood. You left most of them alive,” Nightwing observed, crossing his arms over his chest. Red Hood snorted and holstered his guns, looking over his shoulder at Nightwing.

“You sound surprised,” he replied.

“Considering your usual MO--”

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture, Golden Boy,” Red Hood replied, waving him off.

“You know I’m going to have to take you in, right?”

“You really wanna do this? Right now? With all hell breaking loose out there?” Red Hood snapped, turning toward Nightwing.

“I--” Nightwing started, but suddenly, he groaned in pain. It started with a headache, and then--

 _“Well, well, well, if it ain’t birdboy number one! All grown up it seems!”_  came the Joker’s voice. Nightwing froze in fear and slowly looked up to see--

“Joker!” Nightwing gasped. Red Hood looked around a bit in confusion.

“Joker? Where?” he asked. And that was when he saw it; he looked back toward Nightwing and noticed a tear at the calf of his costume. “Shit. Fear toxin,” he muttered.

 _“Ah your predecessor and I had a helluva time! Well, me more than him. He was too busy bleeding out on the floor!”_  the Joker said with a demented cackle.

“Fuck you,” Nightwing snarled, lunging in at the Joker.

Red Hood ducked back to avoid an escrima strike from Nightwing.

“Snap out of it! It’s fear toxin!” Red Hood shouted, trying to get through to him.

 _“You know the funny part was, he honestly believed someone was going to come save him!”_  The Joker said to him, laughing hysterically. __“Of course nobody ever came! And I’m thinkin’ that new bird might be fun to play with. Tim, is it?”__

__

“You won’t touch him,” Nightwing hissed, landing a series of escrima blows on the Red Hood.

“Ungh, dammit. Gonna have to hurt him. No way around it,” Red Hood muttered to himself. He lunged in at Nightwing and the two of them traded blows, back and forth. The problem was, Nightwing wasn’t holding back; whatever he was seeing, he really didn’t like it.

“You killed Jason," Nightwing murmured, barely above a whisper as a few tears rolled down his face. Red Hood was taken aback by that; he left his guard down and Nightwing landed a kick to his stomach, sending him flying backward into a pile of crates and crashing through them.

“Ow,” he muttered, getting to his feet. Nightwing charged again and Red Hood dodged to the side. As Nightwing turned to swing his escrima sticks at him, Red Hood ducked, then landed a hard blow to the man’s gut, followed by an uppercut, then a round house kick. Nightwing crashed into the wall behind him and groaned in pain.

“You--” he groaned, slowly pushing himself back up.

“Sorry about this, Goldie,” Red Hood replied, kicking him in the face to knock him out cold. With that done, Red Hood turned to leave, but he hesitated at the door. He glanced back at the unconscious acrobat behind him, and stared.

 _Fuck._ He still had feelings for the bastard, and he knew it. He thought he’d gotten over them, thought he’d suppressed them at the very least, and yet, here he was…debating whether or not to help him…He heard a commotion outside and his decision had suddenly been made for him. He glanced out the door to see almost two dozen of Falcone thugs making their way toward the warehouse.

“Fuck!” Red Hood cursed, rushing over to Nightwing’s side and grabbing him up. There was no way he could leave him here; those thugs would kill him without a second though. “Here we go. C’mon,” Red Hood muttered, heading out the back.

* * *

“What did you do?!” Mario shouted at the top of his lung, storming into the library of Falcone Mansion, where his sister Sofia was currently reading. Sofia remained unfazed as he shouted at her. She simply marked her page and set the book down. She looked up at her brother and shrugged her shoulders lightly.

“I merely did what you requested. I hit the Red Hood back--”

“You bail the Scarecrow out of Arkham and he went ape shit on the city!” Mario snapped, silencing her. Sofia remained passive and slowly rose from her seat. She rounded the couch to stand before her brother. “It was a minor miscalculation. We needed to strike fear into our enemies, just like father--”

“No,” Mario snarled, pointed accusingly at her “do not use father as an excuse. Father wouldn’t have deal with these…freaks. You’ve just escalated this war, sister!”

“I did what needed to be done! Maybe if you weren’t such a coward--”

“You’re done! I have to do damage control now. Pack your bags and--”

“You cannot cut me out! I am a Falcone too--”

“You. Are. Done. You’re out of control, sister,” Marion snapped back, spinning around to face her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a weary sigh. “We came to this city to rebuild the old Empire. But there won’t be an Empire, if the city is burned to ash in the meantime. Go back to Falcone Manor. I will take care of things from here,” He said in a calm, even tone. With that said, he turned and left her alone.

Sofia’s features hardened as she sat back down on the couch and reached for her phone.

“This is Sofia Falcone. I have a problem that needs to be taken care of.”


	5. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you?” Dick asked, carefully making his way to the doorway of the kitchen. The man snapped his fingers and pointed at Dick without turning.  
> “Now that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? You might know me as the Red Hood. Sans the voice synthesize of course,” the man answered. Dick went to reach for his escrima sticks, but they weren’t there. He didn’t have any of his gear. “Relax, Dickie. Your gear is in the living room.”  
> “What did you just call me?” Dick asked, heart hammering in his chest at the use of the nickname.

Dick groaned as his eyes slowly fluttered open. The first thing he’d become aware of, was that he definitely wasn’t on the ground. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, running a hand through his hair. His head was pounding with a headache; he remembered the mission, disabling people infected with fear toxin to prevent them from hurting others. The last thing he remembered was fighting the Joker. But that wasn’t really the Joker, was it?

“No it wasn’t,” Dick muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt a twinge of shame at allowing himself to be overcome by fear toxin. Then he started to feel panic when he realized his domino mask was gone. He looked himself over and, indeed, he was still in full costume, but without his mask. After allowing himself a few moments to think, Dick looked around the room. He didn’t recognize this room. It was neither the manor, or his apartment in Blüdhaven. So where was he? His domino mask was sitting on the nightstand beside him. He grabbed it and put it on before pulling himself out of the bed and padding out of the room.

“I see you’re awake. Good. You were having a nightmare; Fear Toxin. I whipped up an antidote though. You should be fine,” came a familiar voice. Dick proceeded carefully down the hallway when he spotted someone in the kitchen, cooking. “Sorry to toss you in bed in your costume. I though it’d be rude to take it off while you were asleep. I’m no creeper,” the man said, still hunched over the stove.

“Who are you?” Dick asked, carefully making his way to the doorway of the kitchen. The man snapped his fingers and pointed at Dick without turning.

“Now that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? You might know me as the Red Hood. Sans the voice synthesize of course,” the man answered. Dick went to reach for his escrima sticks, but they weren’t there. He didn’t have any of his gear. “Relax, Dickie. Your gear is in the living room.”

“What did you just call me?” Dick asked, heart hammering in his chest at the use of the nickname. Few people used that and he could count them on one hand.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve killed you back at the warehouse. Or left you for Falcone’s thugs,” the man added, ignoring his question. The man moved over to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of plates, the reached into the drawer to pull out some forks, all without turning.

“Who are you?! How do you know who I am?!” Dick snapped, frustrated. The man started to laugh then. He remained motionless for a few moments and then started to shake his head.

“Oh Dickie. I’m hurt that you don’t recognize me,” the man replied. Dick frowned at the reply; there was that nickname again. And recognize him? Should have? This was getting too weird. Dick took a few steps closer and then the man turned around at last.

“Jason,” Dick gasped, eyes wide in shock. He took off the domino mask and slowly approached him, but Jason held up his hand and stopped him.

“That’s close enough,” Jason replied.

“Jason…you…but…how?” Dick breathed, still stunned by the revelation. Jason turned back to the stove and started loading two plates up with food. He turned back around and flashed a smirk, raising the plates before setting them down on the table.

“Breakfast first. You’ve been out for about fifteen hours, give or take,” Jason explained, gesturing toward the clock, which now read 6AM. Jason poured a couple of cups of coffee and orange juice, setting them down on the table beside each plated before sitting down himself. He dug into his meal and glanced up at Dick, gestuting to the seat across from him. “Go on. Dig in before it gets cold.”

Dick stood there, silent and dumbfounded; he’d just found out that Jason was alive, and he was the Red Hood! How was he supposed to process this?! Dick dumbly stared down at the table, and then sat down. His body seemed to be running on autopilot, because his every move was automatic. Dick stabbed at his breakfast, content to eat in silence for a few minutes as he let his brain process what was going on.

“Don’t act so surprised, Dick,” Jason said to him, sipping his coffee. “You’ve seen people come back from the dead before. Clark. Ollie. Ra’s al Ghul.” Jason grabbed a strip of bacon and took a bite of it, making an ‘mmm’ sound as he swallowed it down. “In fact, that last one is pretty much the same way I came back,” he added, sipping his orange juice. “I was dead. Talia threw me in the pit, and boom. Here I am. Six years later, granted, but whatever.”

“As you’re the Red Hood now?” Dick asked in a low tone, staring down at his plate. Jason glanced up at the man and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“You’re killing people, Jay,” Dick said softly, finally looking up at Jason, their eyes meeting. Despite the fact that he was older, despite how much he’d changed, Dick could still see Jason, _his Jason_ , behind those eyes. Those eyes which were now almost cold, hardened.

“Yeah. I’m doing what needs to be done, Dick,” Jason said flatly, stabbing at his eggs. “But don’t worry, I don’t kill the good guys.”

“Jason!” Dick shouted, jumping up from the table. “You have to stop this! You can’t just…kill people, Jason! There are laws, systems in place--”

“Systems that don’t work! Systems that are broken!” Jason yelled back. Dick opened his mouth to speak, but Jason cut him off. “How many times have the likes of Penguin, Two-Face, or the Riddler gotten out of Blackgate?! How many times has Harley Quinn, Clayface, Killer Croc and--” Jason paused, glancing down at the table before looking back up at Dick “the Joker gotten out of Arkham?! Hmm?! Tell me!” Dick opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. This was too much; this didn’t sound like the Jason he knew…and loved.

“Jay…you know why we don’t kill,” Dick said softly.

“The door is that way,” Jason ground out, pointing toward the door. “I left some clothes for you in the armchair in the living room. Put them on, and go.”

“Jay--”

“Go!” Jason shouted, slamming the table. Dick hesitated for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Had it not been for the fact that The Red Hood was actually Jason, he might have tried to talk to him, or bring him in. But…he didn’t know what to do with this new information.

Dick retreated into the living room and found a pile of clothes on the armchair. He pulled them on, over his suit, and tucked his domino mask into his pocket. Dick made his way for the door, pausing in the kitchen doorway to look at Jason, who sat hunched over the table, eating breakfast. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him, and so he left without another word.

Jason heaved a sigh as he sat at the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d made sure not to bring Dick to his apartment, or rather Jared’s apartment. That would have been too risky, and also would have made him vulnerable. So he’d brought him to one of his nicer safe houses in Midtown Gotham. He had safe houses all over the city, in strategic locations. But that was not what was bothering him right now.

The way Dick had looked at him, the way he’d spoken to him…it stung. He hated to admit it, but he still had feelings for Dick Grayson. Dick had moved on though; from his own investigations over the years, Dick had been back with Barbara, then also with Kory, Helena, Zatanna…but moving on was what Dick did best.

It didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t going to stop him from doing what needed to be done. Jason finished his breakfast and drained his glass and coffee mug. From the kitchen, he moved into his bedroom and opened up the closet door. He made his way inside the closet and opened up a false wall. Behind it, was Jason’s equipment. He started grabbing things up, pulling on his jacket, boots, gauntlets, utility belt, guns, and ammo.

“Time to get to work,” he said to himself, pulling on his helmet.

* * *

Dick gave a knock at the door of Wayne Manor. Alfred opened the door and have a smile and a bow of his head.

“Good morning, Master Dick. Master Bruce and I were…concerned. We have not seen or heard from you in over fifteen hours,” Alfred explained. Dick flashed a smile, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m here now, and I’m okay. What about Bruce?” Dick replied. Alfred gave a curt nod and gestured toward the inside of the manor. “In the cave, right?” Dick asked, making his way inside.

“Your grasp of the obvious is remarkable, Master Dick,” Alfred replied dryly, following him inside the manor. Dick laughed in amusement; he’d always enjoyed Alfred’s sarcasm and dry wit.

“Well gee, thanks Alfred,” he replied, waving his hand to the man as he made his way to the old grandfather clock. He opened the front of it and pressed the back of the inside of the clock, pressing an invisible switch. The switch caused the clock, and the wall behind it, to move aside, revealing the entrance to the cave. Dick made his way down the stairs and into the cave. Naturally, Bruce was at the computer, working on the Red Hood case once more.

“Bruce,” Dick called. Bruce turned around in his chair, his expression still passive.

“Dick. Is everything alright? You disappeared and your comm link went dark,” Bruce said. Dick stopped in front of the man and put his hands on his hips, giving a curt nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Fear Toxin. It’s gone,” Dick explained.

“Where were you?” he asked. Dick hesitated at the question, but chose to deflect instead of answer it.

“Did you get an antidote whipped up for that fear toxin?” Dick asked. Bruce turned back to the computer, looking up at the screen which had the chemical composition of the toxin up.

“Yes. It has been delivered to the local hospitals, Arkham, and Blackgate. It should be administered soon,” Bruce replied.

“What about Scarecrow?” Dick asked. Bruce turned back to him, his expression still passive.

“Gone. He must’ve escaped in all the chaos,” Bruce replied. Dick gave a nod in response. Alfred came down with a tray of tea and lemon cakes in hand.

“Tea, Master Bruce, Master Dick?” Alfred asked. Dick grabbed a cup of tea, Earl Gray naturally, and a lemon cake. He bit into the cake and made an ‘mmm’ sound.

“Mmm, thanks Alfred! Your tea and cakes are the best,” Dick exclaimed, sipping his tea.

“No thank you, Alfred,” Bruce replied. Alfred gave a nod and retreated from the cave. “You didn’t answer my question, Dick.” Dick finished off the lemon cake, glancing at Bruce while he sipped his tea.

“I was with the Red Hood,” Dick began. Bruce arched an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Dick continued, cutting him off. “He saved me. When Scarecrow got me with the fear toxin, we had a bit of a fight. I thought he was the joker,” Dick explained, padding toward the desk nearby and leaning against it. “He knocked me out and dragged me out of the warehouse before Sofia’s lackies arrived. He brought me back to his place, and even whipped up an antitoxin.”

“I see. Were you able to make an ID?” Bruce asked. Again, Dick hesitated, and Bruce seemed to pick up on it. Bruce rose from his seat to stand before Dick. “Dick. This is important.”

“I did,” he replied.

“And? Any idea who it was?”

“Yes,” Dick answered, biting his lip. There was another pause,m during which Bruce frowned a bit.

“Dick.”

“It was Jason,” Dick finally replied. Bruce flinched a bit at the answer and then went silent for a time. Dick watched him carefully but he betrayed no emotion. Bruce looked up at him again and shook his head, then slipped past him to stand before the display case that held Jason’s Robin costume.

“It’s not possible, Dick. Jason is dead,” Bruce replied. Dick frowned a bit and followed him across the cave to stand beside him, in front of Jason’s Robin costume.

“He’s not dead. I saw him. I know what I saw. He looked…older…but it was definitely him.”

“It had to have been the fear gas, Dick. Jason is dead, it wasn’t him. None of this could be Jason,” Bruce replied stubbornly, moving back across the cave toward the Batcomputer. Dick followed after him.

“Then how do you explain the training? How do you explain how he knows so much about us? How do you--”

“Jason is dead, Dick! It can’t be Jason! You said you saw Jason, but you also admitted you were under the effects of Fear Gas!”

“Yes, Bruce, but The Red hood--Jason--gave me an antitoxin!” Dick snapped. Bruce glowered at him, then turned away from him.

“I don’t have time for this, Dick. I’ve got work to do. Go back to Blüdhaven and get some rest. I’ll take it from here,” Bruce said evenly. Dick snorted and threw his hands up in frustration. He stormed back up the stairs and into the manor. He had no intention of going anywhere, though Bruce made a good point; how could he be sure that who he saw really was Jason? It wouldn’t be the first time some villain had tried messing with his mind…even so…if it _was_  Jason, he wasn’t going to abandon him. He was going to save him, and bring him _home_.

* * *

“God dammit!” Black Mask shouted, throwing his phone across the room, shattering it against the wall. Li ducked to avoid getting hit by it as he entered the office.

“More trouble with the Red Hood, sir?” Li asked. Black Mask glowered at him.

“No fuckin’ shit. Him and that bitch Sofia Falcone. Lost a couple of warehouses to that bitch. And this Red Hood just destroyed a shipment of weapons. And killed our guys,” Black Mask snapped at him, throwing himself into his chair at his desk.

“So what are you planning to do, sir?” Li asked. Black Mask looked up at him and growled.

“That tramp wants to use freaks in this little war of hers? Well, I say we fight fire with fire! Or in this case, ice,” Black Mask said in a low, ominous tone. Li’s eyes widened in shock.

“You don’t mean--”

“Yeah. I already got Freeze out of Arkham. I’ve got my lab techs hookin’ him up with a new suit and gear as we speak,” Black Mask replied, steepling his fingers. “The gloves are off. These maggots wanna play rough, I’ll show ‘em rough.”


	6. Cold-Hearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “These docks now belong to Black Mask and myself. No need to vacate,” Freeze said smoothly, ignoring the gunfire from Sofia’s men as it bounced harmlessly off of his new suit. He reached for his belt and grabbed some cryo grenades, throwing a few into the mix.

“Mario Falcone was gunned down today at Questo è Amore, a Five Star Italien Restaraunt in the Diamond Disctrict of Gotham City…”

Bruce sat at the Batcomputer, staring intently as the Breaking News came up on  the screen. He’d been keeping close track of the three-way fight for control of Gotham for quite some time now. Sofia had escalated things dramatically by hiring Scarecrow, and now, Bruce suspected, she’d had her brother killed to take control of the Falcone Empire. Mario Falcone wouldn’t have approved of her sister’s methods, so naturally, he deducted that he would have confronted her, and this was her answer.

She and Black Mask were known quantities, but this Red Hood presented a challenge. Since he had shown up in town, trafficking had gone up, but over all crime had gone down. As far as violent crimes, crimes against the innocent were also down, but up against other criminals and gangs. Now that the Red Hood had carved out his own territory and place in Gotham’s Underworld, he seemed to be actively tearing down the Falcones and Black Mask.

However, the more damage he did to both of their Empires, the more desperate they were becoming, as evidenced by Sofia’s willingness to loose Scarecrow on the city. It was only a matter of time before Black Mask retaliated in kind. The source of all of this, was Red Hood, but he was very well trained, and quite elusive, having evaded all attempts at capture thus far. He currently controlled The Bowery, and was apparently loved by the people there; Batman had been unable to gain any information from anyone down there, especially the homeless. They actively avoided Batman whenever he showed up.

Crime in The Bowery was much lower than elsewhere in Gotham, surprisingly. The Bowery had been, historically, the most violent, crime ridden area of the city. And yet ever since the Red Hood moved in, things seemed to have improved…it left Bruce with a bit of a moral quandary. On one hand, The Red Hood was just another criminal, dealing drugs, running gangs, and killing people. On the other hand, his work was actually reducing crime. So the question was; did he apprehend this Red Hood and bring him to Justice? Or allow him to continue operating?

Of course he knew what he had to do; he had to apprehend the Red Hood. He had to face justice. He’d made a vow to fight crime, not to allow it. Regardless, it had still posed a bit of a moral quandary for him.

“Master Bruce, may I recommend a break? You have been working for forty-eight hours straight, with little rest. Even you cannot keep going like this indefinitely,” Alfred called as he entered the cave.

“I’m fine, Alfred,” Bruce replied evenly s he rose from the chair. Alfred snorted, but his expression remained passive.

“Indeed,” he said flatly. Bruce glowered at him a little, but the man remained unaffected. “I understand this is important to you, but even you need rest. Perhaps you should ask for help?” Bruce flashed him another look and Alfred straightened up a bit. “Oh dear me, did I just use the ‘h’ word? My sincere apologies.”

“Very funny, Alfred,” Bruce replied.

“Indeed. Very well then, if you insist on pushing yourself to your very limits, at least permit me to make you some tea,” Alfred suggested. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as he stopped beside a work bench.

“Very well. Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce replied.

“Very good sir,” Alfred answered before retreating from the cave. In all honesty, Dick’s revelation to him a few nights ago, had been plaguing his mind. What if it were true? What if the Red Hood _was_  Jason? If that was the case, then this was but another example of a villain of his own making. This whole mess would be just one more problem he’d created or brought onto himself. On the other hand, if it was Jason…was he angry at him?

Not a day went by when Bruce didn’t wonder how Jason felt in his final moments. Did Jason hate him for not saving him? Was he scared? Angry? How long was he at the Joker’s mercy, hoping, _begging_  for someone, for anyone to come and save him?

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and set the drone he’d been working on, down. He moved across the cave to stand in front of the display case containing Jason’s Robin costume. He stood in front of it in silence for a few moments, reflecting on the past; namely, all the mistakes he’d made with Jason. And there were many.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred called. Bruce turned to see Alfred coming toward him with a cup of tee. “Here you are. Black Tea, Master Bruce.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce replied, taking the tea and giving it a sip. Alfred stood beside him and looked at Jason’s costume. There the two of them stood in silence for a time.

“Did I do the right thing, Alfred? Taking Jason in? Training him?” Bruce suddenly asked. Alfred glanced over at Bruce, his expression softening a bit. He nodded his head once and patting the man’s shoulder.

“Perhaps. Adopting him was the right call, but training him as Robin? It is…hard to say. He was a very different Robin to Master Dick,” Alfred answered. Bruce frowned a bit and replied without taking his eyes off of the costume.

“Yes. Jason was angrier, more reckless, more…dangerous.”

“Indeed. But he was also a sweet boy; intelligent, passionate, happy…” Alfred went on, smiling a bit as he recalled Jason’s time here at the manor. He turned to Bruce then and patted the man’s shoulder once more. “For what it is worth, I think you did the right thing. Had you not come into Jason’s life, he would have very likely grown up into crime.”

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but an alarm from the Batcomputer behind him cut him off. He turned and moved across the cave to see what was up.

“Mister Freeze is out of Arkham, and working with Black Mask, it seems. I was afraid this might happen.” Bruce glared at the screen and set his tea down, pulling on his cowl. With that, he raced off toward the Batmobile, typing in a command on his gauntlet to start it remotely.

“Master Bruce, would you like me to inform Master Dick?” Alfred called after him. Batman jumped into the Batmobile and shook his head.

“No Alfred. Dick needs to rest,” he replied before racing out of the cave.

“And so do you,” Alfred said to himself.

* * *

Mister Freeze stared blankly as he froze all of Sofia’s men at the docks, with a dozen or so of Black Mask’s behind him, cleaning up anyone he missed.

“These docks now belong to Black Mask and myself. No need to vacate,” Freeze said smoothly, ignoring the gunfire from Sofia’s men as it bounced harmlessly off of his new suit. He reached for his belt and grabbed some cryo grenades, throwing a few into the mix.

“Freeze!” Batman called. The ice villain turned to see Batman flying out of the Batwing at him. He raised his gun but got a fist to the face before he could pull the trigger, sending him flying backward and into a pile of crates. Batman turned and attacked Black Mask’s men before they could fire or any shots, quickly disarming and disabling them all.

“Batman!” came Nightwing’s voice over the commlink.

“What is it Nightwing?” Batman begrudgingly asked as he dodged a few blasts from Freeze’s Ice Gun.

“I’ve got Scarecrow cornered at Ace Chemicals. How’re you handling Freeze?” Nightwing asked. Batman swatted the barrel of Freeze’s Ice Gun aside and delivered a powerful kick to his gut, sending him flying backward into Black Mask’s thugs behind him.

“I’m fine. Focus,” Batman replied.

“Man, you really know how to spoil a party, don’t you Bats?” Batman turned and standing on top of the warehouse behind him, was The Red Hood. His eyes narrowed as he shot the Crime Lord a venomous glare. “I had this elaborate ambush planned for the human Popsicle over there, and you just had to come along and spoil all the fun.”

“I’m bringing you in, Hood. It’s over,” Batman replied. The Red Hood raised one of his hand guns and fired a shot. Batman ducked out of the way, but quickly discovered that he wasn’t the target. Freeze had aimed his gun at Batman from behind, but the shot from Red Hood’s gun shattered Freeze’s helmet. Freeze gasped and collapsed back against the crates behind him.

“No!” Batman shouted, turning back to Red Hood. “You’ll kill him!”

“That’s the idea,” Red Hood snapped back. Thinking quickly, Batman knelt down beside Freeze and pulled a cryo grenade off his belt. He pulled out the pin and smashed it against the intact part of Freeze’s protective helmet; the grenade exploded ice and covered the breach, saving his life.

“Tch, Freeze’s death would’ve been a favor to this city. From where I’m standing, you’re no hero; you’re an accomplice, and an enabler,” Red Hood snapped. Batman spun around a fired a line toward the roof. Red Hood backflipped a few times as the man landed on the roof and lunged in for the attack. “Been waiting for this fight for a while. It’s a little ahead of schedule, but I can adapt.”

“Enough is enough! This has to stop!” Batman shouted, throwing a punch. He landed a blow against Red Hood’s helmet, sending the criminal stumbling back a bit. The Red Hood quickly recovered, just in time to dodge a follow up attack. As he feinted to the left to avoid a punch, he delivered an elbow to Batman’s face, sending him stumbling backward. Without a second’s pause, he followed that up with a series of punches, a few of them finding purchase. Batman caught Hood’s arm on a punch and flipped him over his head. Hood skidded to a stop and crouched down, waiting for Batman’s approach.

But Batman was ready for him; he faked a punch, making Red Hood dodge, only to deliver a kick instead, sending the criminal flying backward and skidding across the roof of the warehouse. Batman was on him in a blink.

“It’s over, Hood,” he growled, pulling the helmet free. He gasped in shock when he beheld Jason’s face. “No. It can’t be,” he breathed. The man’s eyes opened and he laughed darkly.

“You’re right; it’s not,” the man responded, his voice suddenly growing deeper. He quickly pulled a syringe from his belt and stabbed Batman with it. Batman growled and fell to his knees. When he looked up again, the man’s amr shifted into a massive hammer and struck his face, sending him flying across the building. Batman skidded across the roof and groaned, sitting up. He looked toward where the Red Hood was, and instead, saw Clayface.

“Clayface,” Batman growled. Clayface laughed as he slowly approached.

“Yeah. Red Hood said that face would screw with your head. Not as much as that Fear Toxin though,” Clayface replied with a low chuckle. “I’d stay and play, but I got a date with Sofia Falcone. Later Batman. Enjoy the toxin,” Clayface called with a laugh as he jumped off of the roof of the building.

Batman growled as he searched through his utility belt for the antidote. He found it, fumbling in one of the pouches and pulled it out, but before he could inject himself--

 _“You let me die!”_  Batman looked up and saw a beaten, bloody Jason standing before him. Tears fell down the boy’s face as he limped toward him. _“How could you let me die?! How could you let the Joker take me from you?! I trusted you!”_  Batman growled to himself and closed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

“I tried to save you, Jason,” he murmured.

 _“You wanted me to die! You wanted me to die, because I wasn’t as good as Dick!”_ Jason shouted. Batman growled and injected himself with the antitoxin.

“No,” he whispered to himself. He looked up again and the hallucination was gone. But so was Clayface. Batman turned and looked down at the scene below. The GCPD was just now arriving and Mr Freeze was fortunately still unconscious. His eyes narrowed as he looked the scene over; things were getting out of hand. He summoned the Batmobile and jumped down off of the roof of the warehouse and into the car.

“Dick, how’re things with Scarecrow?” Batman asked. There was a brief silence, followed by the sounds of combat.

“I’ve got things under control here! I’ll take Scarecrow back to Ark--hey!”

“Nightwing? Nightwing?!” Batman shouted, but he got no answer. “Dammit,” Batman growled to himself as he began tracking Nightwing. He raced off, following the trace.

* * *

Scarecrow groaned and shook his head as he finally came to. He looked around the cold, dark room, his surroundings unrecognizable. Scarecrow grunted as he struggled against his bonds, but to no avail.

“What is going on here?” Scarecrow growled. He heard laughing the from the shadows and struggled harder against his bonds. “You think you can scare me?! Me?! I’m the Scarecrow; fear is _my_ weapon!”

“Cool your syringes, Scarecrow. The only reason you’re alive is because I have a job for you.” The Red Hood stopped in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. Scarecrow snorted in amusement, suppressing a laugh.

“And why would I help you, Red Hood?” Scarecrow snapped. Hood knelt down in front of the man, but kept his distance.

“Because it’s the only reason you’re still alive, or not back in Arkham,” he replied. Scarecrow glared at him, but offered no retort. “You see, doctor,” Hood began, standing up to his full height and pacing again “your fear toxin can be quite a useful tool. And there’s someone I’d like to strike a little fear into,” Hood began.

“So do every other thug in this this,” Scarecrow snapped. Hood turned to him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“True, but I happen to know you have a bit of a grudge against Black Mask,” Hood replied. Scarecrow paused for a moment and looked up at Hood, intrigued.

“Go on…”


	7. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So…we’ve both got a problem. His name is The Red Hood,” Black Mask began.
> 
> “Yes. Had we acted sooner, we may not have been in this situation,” Sofia answered. Black Mask lit another cigarette and took a few puffs. “Obviously, treatin’ this little shit stain like some damn newbie was a big mistake.”
> 
> “He knows what he’s doing. He also has to go.”
> 
> “Agreed.”

Sofia shed a few crocodile tears at her brother’s funeral, along with all those friends and family who had gathered to mourn Mario’s death. She dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief and turned to her new assistant, a man roughly her age named Michael.

“Is everything prepared?” she asked in a whisper. Michael nodded in response, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to make it look good as he whispered back.

“Yes ma’am. The assault on Red Hood’s warehouse down in Admiral docks is ready on your word.” Sofia gave a slight nod in reply and stepped away from Michael.She moved gracefully toward a bald man in a black suit. He looked over at her and she sat beside him.

“Victor Zsasz?” she whispered to him. He flinched and reached for a knife up his sleeve but she held up her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to expose you. I am Sofia Falcone,” she whispered to him. He perked up a bit at the mention of the name ‘Falcone’. “I understand you used to work for my father?”

“I did. And still do. Mario was also a good friend of mine,” he replied. Sofia gave a nod. “I’m sorry for your loss. Are you here to ask me to find the bastard that killed him?” Zsasz asked in a low, threatening tone.

“I already know who it was; it was The Red Hood,” she replied.

“I see. Consider him dead, babe,” Zsasz replied with a smug grin. Sofia looked at him in surprise. Zsasz looked over at her and flinched. “Aw shit,” he muttered. Sofia jumped away and pulled out a hand gun, just as Zsasz attempted to stab her. She fired several rounds at him, frightening the people gathered at her brother’s funeral. Zsasz fell over backward and groaned before turning back into Clayface.

“Damn. Guess I blew my cover,” Clayface ground out, his face twisting into a warped grin.

“Victor Zsasz had nothing but respect for my father and his family. You almost had me convinced,” Sofia replied. Clayface shrugged and turned one arm into a giant axe, and the other into a hammer.

“The Red Hood sends his regards,” Clayface told her, with a deep laugh as he swung his axe-arm at her. She dived out of the way and her thugs immediately intervened, showering Clayface with bullets.

“Miss--” one of the men shouted, but Sofia and a few of her bodyguards were already making a break for the car. Clayface laughed as he swatted the men aside with his hammer-hand, and gave chase after Sofia and her bodyguards. The group hopped into their getaway car and raced away from the scene.

“Dammit,” Sofia cursed loudly as the car disappeared into the traffic. “This Red Hood is a threat that needs to be eliminated. I’ve--” Sofia began in an even tone, when suddenly, the car lifted up off of the road.

“Didja really think it’d be that easy?” Clayface taunted, giving a laugh. With the car gripped in one hand, he ripped the door off with the other and dumped Sofia and her bodyguards out of the car. Clayface ignored the panicked screams of citizens nearby as he threw the car across the street, sounding a massive crash as it struck into a delivery truck nearby.

“Get down Miss Falcone!” One of the men shouted, firing at Clayface. The other three followed suit, with fully automatic weapons.

“Stupid. You can’t hurt me with those,” Clayface retorted with a laugh as he swung a clay fist and threw the lot of them aside. Clayface stomped toward Sofia, chuckling darkly as she glared at him and slowly backed off. “You’re a brave lady. I wouldn’t expect any less from the daughter of Carmine Falcone.” Suddenly, as Clayface raised his fist to strike, ice exploded all over his body. In the confusion and chaos, Sofia Falcone made her escape with her assistant Michael behind her.

Clayface turned and there stood Batman, having thrown a s handful of cryo mini-grenades at him.

“B-Batman…why you--” Clayface growled, only to be interrupted as Batman threw even more, freezing Clayface completely in place.

Sofia, meanwhile, had safely arrived back at Falcone Mansion with her assistant Michael in tow. Awaiting them were a dozen or so bodyguards who went about securing the mansion after their arrival. Sofia made her way into the study where she sat at the desk and crossed her legs, glaring at Michael. Michael flinched a bit under her gaze.

“What do you wish to do, ma’am?” he asked. Sofia was silent for a time as she considered all of the potential options. There were many she didn’t like, few which she wouldn’t even consider, and a few that were starting to seem…appealing.

“Contact Black Mask. As much as I loathe the thought of working with that…scum bag,” she said flatly, rising from her seat “I suspect a mutually beneficial alliance would be most welcomed.”

* * *

Black Mask flipped his desk and clawed at his head angrily. Li stood off to the side, well out of way of his boss’ anger. His bodyguards were less fortunate; Black Mask punched one of them in the gut. He spun around toward Li and shot him a venomous glare.

“God fucking dammit! Are you seriously tellin’ me that this little cocksucker destroyed an entire truck of military grade weapons?!” Black Mask hollered.

“I’m afraid so, sir. And the muscle we hired to guard the truck is dead,” Li answered.

“Fuck!” Black Mask shouted angrily, punishing another of his bodyguards in the jaw.

“I want this mother fucker dead! I want his blood on my walls and his head on a pike dead!” Black Mask snarled at Li, storming toward the man and stopping just a few feet in front of him. “I want a whole lotta guys, with a whole lotta guns, to find this guy and pump him so full of led, that nobody, not even Batman, can ID the god damn body!”

“Yes sir--”

“And when they’re done with him, I want the body, so I can string his guts up like Christmas Tinsel and carve his face off and use it as a decorative mantle piece!” Li arched an eyebrow and even his bodyguards visibly flinched at the brutality behind their boss’ words.

“Understood sir, we--” but Li was again interrupted when the power to the entire building went out. Black Mask looked around and scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Oh now what the fuck?” Black Mask groaned in annoyance. A laugh sounded from the darkness; a low, ominous and raspy laugh, one that Black Mask recognized.

“The Scarecrow. Fuckin’ wonderful,” Black Mask hissed. He turned to his body guards and gestured for them to follow. “We’re gettin’ outta here before that freak finds us.”

“Too late,” came Scarecrow’s voice. The door burst open and Black Mask’s men pointed their guns toward it. Nothing happened. Nothing came through. And then--

“Hit the deck!” one of the bodyguards shouted as a smoking canister flew into the room and exploded, spraying fear gas everywhere. Black Mask and his assistant were prepared for it, however, having grabbed rebreathers from a shelving unit nearby. His bodyguards were less fortunate; they were busy screaming in fear on the floor.

“These fuckers are messin’ with the wrong businessman,” Black Mask snarled, retreating from the room with Li in tow.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is that any way to treat a guest?” came Scarecrow’s voice. Black Mask and Li kept running, occasionally glancing around to see who was following. More of Black Mask’s men began storming the various floors, looking for the supervillain. Li and Black Mask grabbed a few guys on the way down to the bunker hidden underneath the building. But before they could reach it--

“Not so fast, Sionis,” Scarecrow hissed, intercepting them and swinging his chain-scythe at one of Black Mask’s thugs. Before they could draw their guns, Scarecrow sliced two of their throats with his chain-scythe, and threw loaded syringes at the third, incapacitating him. “You and I are going to have some fun, Sionis,” Scarecrow said in a sinister tone, giving a demented chuckle as he swung his chain-scythe in a circle.

“Shit,” Black Mask muttered as he and Li backed away slowly. As Scarecrow raised his scythe to strike, a wingding flew from down the hallway and struck the scythe, causing it to strike and stick into a nearby wall. All three of them turned to see Nightwing charging in their direction.

“Scarecrow, there you are! I was afraid you’d forgotten about little old me! Almost hurt my feelings!” Nightwing called, drawing his escrima sticks. Black Mask and Li attempted to make an escape but before they could get anywhere, Nightwing threw a mini-bolas, which wrapped around both their ankles. The two of them crashed to the floor, with Black Mask swearing explosively.

“I’ll hurt more than just your feelings, bird boy,” Scarecrow hissed, ripping his scythe free from the wall and throwing it at Nightwing. Nightwing ducked to avoid the deadly blade and charged in at Scarecrow, delivering a devastating escrima combination and sending the doctor flying backward, tumbling head over heels down the hallway. When he turned around to check on Black Mask and Li, they were making their escape down the hallway, with the bolas discarded across the hallway. Nightwing turned his attention back to Scarecrow, just in time to side step and avoid the deadly chain-scythe again.

Black Mask and Li managed to escape the building, grabbing one of Black Mask’s cars nearby. Li drove while Black Mask lit a cigarette, taking a deep inhale of it.

“Those things’ll kill you, y’known” Li said evenly without diverting his attention from the road.

“Fuck you.”

“So what do we do now, sir?” Li asked, glancing over at his boss. Black Mask growled lowly, flicking the cigarette butt out the window.

“Now, we make a deal. I’m bettin’ that Falcone bitch’ll deal with us to get rid of our mutual problem.”

* * *

Sofia Falcone and Black Mask met on neutral ground, in the Narrows, without any bodyguards or weapons, and only their assistants with them. For a whole minute, which stretched on for what felt like an eternity, they silently glared at each other.

“So…shall we get this started?” Li suggested. Black Mask snorted and Sofia remained passive.

“So…we’ve both got a problem. His name is The Red Hood,” Black Mask began.

“Yes. Had we acted sooner, we may not have been in this situation,” Sofia answered. Black Mask lit another cigarette and took a few puffs. “Obviously, treatin’ this little shit stain like some damn newbie was a big mistake.”

“He knows what he’s doing. He also has to go.”

“Agreed.” Another silence stretched between them, while Black Mask finished his cigarette. He flicked the butt onto the ground and stomped it out.

“So…what do you propose?” Sofia asked.

“A truce. Temporary while we weed this little bastard out,” Black Mask replied. Sofia gave a nod.

“Indeed. And how do we deal with this Red Hood? A simple assassin will not be enough,” Sofia answered.

“My thoughts exactly. This Red Hood seems to be on Batman’s level, or at least in his league. We’ll need someone whose beaten the Bat,” Black Mask replied.

“There aren’t many people like that,” Sofia supplied. Black Mask’s eyes narrowed.

“No there are not. And they’re not cheap either. But I do have a guy in mind.”

“Oh? Do share.”

“I already took the liberty of contacting him. He should be here shortly. It’s only a matter of… _negotiating_  his contract,” Black Mask replied. Sofia gave a derisive snort but waved her hand dismissively.

“Fine. Where is he?”

“He’s right here,” came a voice from behind them. The two Crime Lords turned to see none other than Bane step toward them. The man, built like a tank even without his venom, stepped up to the two Crime Lords and cracked his knuckles. “And he is ready to… _negotiate,_ ” Bane added.

“Right then. Ten million, from each of us. You’ve broken the Bat before. Well we need you to break someone else. Permanently,” Black Mask said evenly. Bane’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back and forth between Sofia and Black Mask.

“I want more. Territory in Gotham,” Bane replied.

“What?! You--” Sofia began, but Black Mask interrupted.

“That can be arranged. You kill this Red Hood, his territory is yours. The entire Bowery.” Bane was silent for a time, glancing over at Sofia, who looked rather perturbed.

“What about you? Are you…agreeable?” he asked. Sofia glowered at him, considering the situation and her options.

“Fine.”

“Good. Then consider this ‘Red Hood’ broken.”


	8. "Jared"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve got really good taste in books, Jason,” the man said smoothly, closing the book and showing him the cover; _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ , by William Shakespeare.
> 
> “Dick. What’re you doing here?” Jason asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. This wasn't part of my original outline, but it just kind of happened....sooooo...enjoy I guess. ^^

Jason heaved a weary sigh as he carried a bag of groceries down the stairs to his sub-level apartment. He’d spent the majority of the day ‘at work’, or in other words, playing Crime Lord. When he set this entire plan into motion, he knew it would not be a walk in the park. But playing politics with a bunch of Underworld Gangs and Drug Lords was like raising a pack of rambunctious, ill-behaved toddlers. Granted these ‘toddlers’ were running around with fully automatic weapons and were ready to kill each other on a whim, and yet they behaved like children as opposed to adults.

He stopped in front of his door and pulled out his keys, unlocked the door and pushed it open with his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped inside and closed the door with his foot, kicking his boots off at the door. As he turned to enter the kitchen, he froze in place, his eyes narrowing on a figure sitting in an arm chair in his living room, reading one of his books.

“You’ve got really good taste in books, Jason,” the man said smoothly, closing the book and showing him the cover; _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ , by William Shakespeare.

“Dick. What’re you doing here?” Jason asked, padding into the kitchen and setting the grocery bags down on the table. He went about putting the groceries away, not bothering to go back into the living room to see Dick. That was fine, because the man seemed content to come and see him instead.

“I wanted to see you, Jason,” Dick replied, leaning against the door frame. Jason glanced over his shoulder at Dick as he started putting things away in the refrigerator.

“That so? How’d you find me here?”

“Well, _Jared_ , I am a detective. And besides, I know you,” Dick explained with a smirk on his face. He padded across the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We were…a thing once. I thought that might count for something.”

Jason paused in what he was doing, momentarily, and glanced up at Dick. He snorted and continued to stow things away in the refrigerator.

“What, you thought you’d use the fact that we used to be boyfriends to con me into coming home or something?” Jason asked, closing the refrigerator door and throwing out the paper bags.

“No. I thought that _maybe_  you’d talk to me. _Why_  are you doing this?” Dick asked him, pushing off of the counter. Jason snorted again and turned to Dick as he peeled off his black leather jacket and made his way into the living room to hang it up on the coat rack.

“Because Bruce is a fucking coward, too afraid to do what needs to be done,” Jason snapped at him. Dick carefully followed after him, stopping in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

“Are you sure there isn’t another reason? I know you, Jay, and I know it’s not that simple,” Dick replied. Jason turned to him and flipped him off before he made his way over to the bookshelf, grabbed a book, and flopped down onto the couch.

“Fuck you, Dickie. You wanna psychoanalyze someone, go to fuckin’ Arkham with that shit,” Jason snapped, his Jersey accent slipping out a bit in his annoyance. Dick snickered a little bit, drawing the ire of Jason, who looked up at Dick with an annoyed expression. “What’s so damn funny?” Jason snapped at him. Dick smiled from ear to ear and waved his hand dismissively.

“Nothing. Not really. It’s just--” Dick paused for a moment, then moved across the living room, taking a seat in the armchair nearby. “I don’t know if you noticed, but your accent still comes out when you’re annoyed. It’s cute.”

Jason frowned and started reading his book again. He pointed toward the door.

“You know where the door is,” he said simply. Dick’s smile faded as he carded a hand through his hair. He wasn’t leaving, not yet. He wanted to help Jason, to talk to him, anything. He’d been dead for six years, or at least gone for that long.

“I’m not going anywhere, Little Wing,” Dick replied, his smile renewing. Jason flinched at the use of the old nickname, looking up from his book at Dick with a frown on his face.

“Don’t call me that,” Jason snapped. Dick’s smile turned into a smug smirk. He got to his feet and moved over to the couch, sitting closer to Jason.

“What? You don’t like it when I call you ‘Little Wing’? Though come to think of it, you didn’t much like it back then either,” Dick replied, snickering a bit in amusement. Jason snorted and rolled his eyes.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing ‘little’ about me anymore. I’ve got a few inches on you anyway, Dickie-bird,” Jason replied, turning his attention back to his book. Dick frowned a bit and got to his feet.

“What? No way,” Dick replied. Jason snorted and bookmarked his page, getting to his feet. He moved up in front of Dick, just to prove his point. Dick flinched a bit as he looked up to Jason’s face. “Wow. You got big, Jaybird. You’ve got at least four inches on me,” Dick said, impressed. Jason sat back down and grabbed his book, but Dick remained standing, looking down at Jason.

“Jason, why are you doing all of this?” Dick asked. Jason rolled his eyes again and looked up at Dick.

“This again? I already answered you,” Jason snapped at him. Dick frowned and waved his hand dismissively.

“You gave me some like of crap about ‘doing what Bruce can’t’, but there’s more to it than that. I can tell,” Dick replied. He sat back down on the couch beside Jason and reached out to place his hand on top of the man’s arm. Jason jerked away and jumped to his feet.

“Why do you even care?!”

Dick flinched like he’d been struck. How could Jason even ask that?

“Because I loved-- _still love_ \--you,” Dick admitted, looking down at the floor. Jason snorted again and turned his attention back to his book.

“Well, you need to move on. It’s been six years, and I _don’t_ love you anymore,” Jason replied coldly. Dick flinched noticeably when Jason said that, because it hurt.

“You’re lying,” Dick replied in an even tone. Jason looked over the top of his book.

“No. I’m not. I don’t love you,” Jason replied. Dick frowned and got to his feet, prompting Jason to set his book down. “What?” he asked.

“You’re lying. I can tell.”

“No, I’m not, _Dick_. I don’t even _like_  you,” Jason snapped, rising to his feet. Dick stepped forward, ignoring Jason’s aggressive posture.

“You’re lying, Jason. You know how I know? Because you can’t say it while looking directly into my eyes. You’re always looking somewhere else,” Dick replied, his lips canting upward into a smug smirk. Jason snorted and walked away from him.

“I don’t have to listen to this shit. Get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jay. You’re killing people, but you don’t have to. You can come home and we can--”

“We can what, Dick?!” Jason shouted, throwing his arms out. “Talk it out?! Settle things with hugs?! Fuck that shit! I died and that fucking bastard let my killer go free!” Jason shouted. Dick flinched a bit at Jason’s words and it was then that realization had donned on him.

“You’re mad at Bruce for not killing the Joker,” Dick murmured.

“You’re damn right I am! He never gave a shit about me! If he had, he wouldn’t have let the Joker get away with my _murder!_ ”

“Jason--”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses! That’s all I heard, all my god damn life!” Jason snapped at him, pushing past him and storming into the kitchen. Dick scoffed and followed after him, watching as Jason pulled open a drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Dick made his way across the kitchen and snatched the pack out of Jason’s hand before he could even grab one. “Dick, what the fuck,” Jason snapped, snatching them back.

“Those thing will kill you, Jay,” Dick scolded. Jason snorted and lit one up, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke in Dick’s face.

“Been there, done that. In case you hadn’t noticed,” Jason replied, gesturing to himself “it didn’t stick." Dick coughed a bit and waved the smoke out of his face.

“Jaybird,” Dick said in a softer tone, his expression softening as well. “Just…come home. Please. We can fix this. We can fix everything.” Dick stepped toward Jason, who seemed a bit taken aback by the sudden change. Jason was silent for a time as he finished his cigarette and put it out in an ashtray nearby. He turned back to Dick and his eyes narrowed.

“What makes you think I want to go home?” he asked. Dick couldn’t really answer that because it was plainly obvious that Jason had changed quite a lot in the last six years or so. But nobody wanted to be alone, not really. He was sure that not even Jason wanted to be. “That’s what I thought,” Jason said when Dick didn’t answer. He pushed past the man and made his way back into the living room. Dick wasn’t giving up that easy though, and followed him.

“I’m not giving up on you, Jay,” Dick said then, watching as Jason dropped down into his arm chair. Jason rolled his eyes in annoyance and turned on his TV in an attempt to drown him out.

“This again?”

Dick frowned and grabbed the remote, muting the TV.

“I’m not giving up on you, because I still love you. __We__  still love you, whether you realize it or not,” Dick said to him, sitting back down on the couch near him. Jason’s eyes narrowed as he got to is feet again and pointed toward the door.

“And I already told you; I don’t love you. Now get out. I’ve got shit to do in a couple of hours.” Dick flashed a smug grin and got back up himself, getting up in Jason’s space.

“Funny how you only focused on me there,” Dick pointed out. Jason arched an eyebrow, so Dick explained “I said we, as in our family.”

“So?”

“So…I think there’s still something there, Jay. You just don’t want to admit it,” Dick went on, taking another step closer to Jason. Jason flinched almost unnoticeably and stepped back.

“We’re not talking about this again. I’ve already said--”

“ _Lied,_ you mean,” Dick said more firmly, continuing forward, with Jason retreating. “You can keep up this bullshit about how you don’t care about me at all, but I know you’re full of shit,” Dick went on, a little more aggressive about it than he’d been since he got here. He felt a little embarrassed that it took him this long to figure out how to talk with Jason, how to _really_  talk to him. Him being gentle and kind wasn’t getting through to the man at all, so now he figured it was time to ‘challenge’ him.

“You--"

“I’m not done yet,” Dick interrupted. “You say you don’t care about me at all, and yet you’ve had every opportunity to kill or injury me since you came back. You could’ve physically removed me from your apartment by now, or at least tried to. But you haven’t done any of that. You’ve only snapped at me and tried to hurt me to make me leave and forget you.”

Jason was taken aback by this sudden change in Dick’s attitude; he’d seen the man like this before, but only a few times, and though he’d never admit it, the man was quite intimidating when he got this way. Soon enough, Jason found his back to the wall; literally.

“You know what, Jason? I think you actually _do_ , care about me. Even if you __really__  don’t love me anymore, which I can live with,” Dick went on “but don’t sit here and lie to me and say that you don’t care at all, because you’re full of shit. And I think we _both_  know that.”

Jason swallowed a bit and suddenly felt like a teenager again. A teenager being scolded for doing something wrong or stupid. He cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Dick leaned forward and kissed him. Jason froze on the spot, unsure of how to react at this point. But all those feelings he’d thought were gone, that he’d recently started realize he’d just been _suppressing_ , started to resurface again. He felt those butterflies in his stomach again, felt his face heat up. He didn’t kiss Dick back, much as he wanted to, but he didn’t pull back or push Dick away, either. And Dick must have noticed that.

Dick pulled away from Jason and his lips canted upward slightly, into a slight smile.

“I want to help you, Jay. But I can’t if you don’t let me,” Dick said to him. He turned and made his way for the door, grabbing his jacket up off of the couch and pulling it on. “I’ll go, but…” Dick paused, stopping as he grabbed the door know and looked back at Jason. “You know where to find me.” Dick opened the door and left, and Jason stood there in silence.

He padded into the middle of the room and looked around, rubbing the back of his neck. He heaved a sigh and sat down on the arm chair, letting himself think. He felt his resolve waver for a moment and contemplated giving all of this up…for all of three seconds. It only took reminding himself that his death had gone unavenged, to once again stoke the fires. His eyes narrowed and he got back to his feet, heading for his room and the hidden gear locker behind his closet.

“I don’t need help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” Jason growled to himself as he pulled on his gear. “It’s time I finish what I started.”


	9. Bane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. But you’re holding back, aren’t you?” Bane said to him, eyes narrowing. Hood laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
> 
> “You caught me red handed! I was just stalling,” he replied. Bane heard the sound of something flying through the air and looked up to see three batarangs flying his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue the evil laughter*

Bane had not been subtle about his arrival in Gotham. He and his thugs, all armed with venom apparatuses, all but stormed into the Bowery through Dixon Docks. Their ships arrived at the docks and they immediately starting taking over. It wasn’t difficult for a small army of thugs armed with venom either. Bane led the charge, and within the span of a couple of hours, he and his gang of venom-powered thugs had taken control of the docks and the surrounded area, beating some of Red Hood’s gangs into submission.

Of course, the Red Hood figured that this was a ploy to draw him out. He’d planted a bug on Black Mask and heard he and Sofia plot to hire Bane to take him out. He was prepared for this, though an all out assault like this seemed…too blatant. Bane was a master tactician, so he obviously knew what he was doing. Red Hood was not going to underestimate him. Bane was not a man to be trifled with. He’d been one of the few people who had managed what often seemed impossible; he defeated Batman.

Red Hood had been getting SOS messages about Bane’s incursion into his territory for the last hour or so. None of them stood a chance against a gang of venom-powered thugs. It sent those under his command into a bit of a panic, but Hood assured them, he’d take care of it personally. Red Hood had been perched atop a building across the street from the docks, just watching. Bane’s men were moving crates from the ship into the shipyard; venom most likely. Before he’d attack, he needed some intel and so far it seemed that Bane and his thugs were content with the small patch of Gotham that they’d carved out this far. That was odd for Bane, since historically, he’d wanted all of Gotham City for himself.

Hood looked up toward the sky, waiting for the signal. Moments later, it appeared; the Bat Signal. Hood grinned to himself underneath his mask and pulled out a grappling gun, making his way down to the street below. Batman would be here soon; _better get started._

Hood opted for stealth and started with those who had no venom. Bane didn’t hand his venom out like candy; you had to earn it, and only the very best and brightest of his men had been given any. His lieutenants were highly trained combatants as well as highly intelligent. Bane had no love for stupidity; he was built like a tank, even without venom, but inside that head of his, was the brain of a genius, and tactical expert. His strength went well beyond mere muscle.

For this operation, however, Bane had given all of his men a small dose of venom, just enough to carve out this small patch of venom for himself. Even without the venom though, his men were a step above your average gang member. Unfortunately, they were still not in Red Hood’s league. And so he’d managed to take out over a dozen of them before drawing the ire of one of his lieutenants.

“You there! You’re the Red Hood, aren’t you?” the man asked, punching his hand as he injected himself with venom. Hood, who honestly stopped trying to be stealthy not too long ago, merely shrugged his shoulders.

“Who me? You got me,” he replied. He quickly pulled out his guns and fired a barrage at the man. The lieutenant dived out of the way behind a pile of crates, then lifted a couple, one in each hand, and threw them at the Red Hood. Bane would surely come to investigate soon, but before that--

“I’m gonna break you, like Bane broke the bat!” the man shouted, lifting up another crate.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think so,” Hood replied, pulling out a switch and pressing the button. A red light flashed on the crate, drawing the lieutenant’s attention. He attempted to throw it away, but before he got the chance, it exploded in his hands, killing him instantly. Sure enough a Bane’s four remaining Lieutenants, and Bane himself, arrived on the scene.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Red Hood,” Bane said in an even tone. He grinned and punched his hand, then pointed at the man and said “I’ve been waiting for you. They say you’re like the Bat, only you’re not afraid to shed a little blood.”

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose,” Hood replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“I broke the Bat. And I’m gonna break you, too. Gotham City will be mine,” Bane said to him. Hood gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“You know how many people have said that over the years? And you know how many of them currently rule Gotham City? None of them. Sofia and Black Mask are just the latest in a long line of power hungry vultures who will have their asses knocked right off their high horses. Gotham has no ruler. Gotham eats its rulers,” Hood replied. Bane gave a dark laugh.

“Exactly why I want it for my own. Kill the Hood and bring me his head. Failure will result in the revocation of your venom,” Bane declared.

“Oh my, no venom? Whatever will these poor souls do?” Hood mocked, twirling his guns in his hands. “I dunno about you, but Batsy, Nightwing, and I manage just fine without that shit.”

“Shut up!” one of the men roared, hopped up on venom as he lunged in at Hood. Hood avoided the attack with ease, even as a second and a third came his way. He dodged the second and ducked back from the third; he knew blocking wasn’t an option when your opening had the strength of an elephant.

As four, five, and six joined the fray, Red Hood made a tactical retreat. The lieutenants taunted and mocked him as they threw crates at him, but Hood wasn’t falling for it. He could more than handle each of them, maybe even take on two at a time. But whereas they were smarter and more well-trained than your run-of-the-mill thug, more than two or three at a time would pose a problem. Especially hopped up on venom.

Red Hood skidded to a stop at a dead end, surrounded by wooden crates and shipping crates, and the six thugs, with Bane behind them to ensure that the job was done, laughed.

“Looks like you’ve hit a dead end, muchacho. Time to face the music,” Bane taunted. Red Hood gave a laugh and raised his hands in the air.

“Aw, c’mon! Are you underestimating me? And here I was, being all polite and considerate, and taking you seriously,” he replied. Bane gave a laugh and pointed at the Hood.

“A brave one. I like this one. Make his death quick and painless,” Bane declared. As the six thugs approached, Red Hood quickly pulled out another trigger, and a grappling gun.

“It’s a trap!” Bane called, but he was too late. Hood grappled out of the way and pressed the button; the docks underneath the thugs exploded, sending all six of them scattering in different directions. Two were killed in the explosion, and the other four were knocked out cold. Hood raced across the top of the shipping crates and glanced down to see Bane following him on the ground. The super villain jumped up toward him and Red Hood flipped backward. Bane crashed through the crates and grabbed Hood’s angle.

“Shit, this is gonna be bad,” Hood called out. Bane growled and threw Hood down toward the ground. Hood slammed into the ground and grunted, followed by a groan as he rolled over onto his back. “Someone get the number on that mini-van?” He pushed himself onto his feet and flipped backward in time to avoid a punch from Bane.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight. But you’re holding back, aren’t you?” Bane said to him, eyes narrowing. Hood laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“You caught me red handed! I was just stalling,” he replied. Bane heard the sound of something flying through the air and looked up to see three batarangs flying his way. He dodged out of the way of them and followed their trajectory with his eyes, watching as the stuck into some crates behind him. They blinked three times before exploding and sending the man flying across the shipyard. Bane groaned but quickly recovered, just in time to see Batmand and Nightwing join the fray.

“Batman. Nightwing. You Bats keep popping up all over the place, don’t you?”

“Sure as hell took your sweet ass time,” Red Hood snapped, dusting himself off.

“We were a bit preoccupied,” Nightwing replied with a grin, shrugging his shoulders.

“Shut up and fight,” Batman snapped, lunging in at Bane. Red Hood and Nightwing turned their attention onto the small army of thugs that had stormed the docks from the boat and had surrounded them, armed with various melee weapons. Nightwing and Red Hood retreated toward the center, standing back to back.

“Think you can handle ‘em?” Nightwing asked.

“Do bears shit in the woods?” Red Hood shot back. Nightwing laughed and then the two of them got to work taking down Bane’s men. The two of them fought side-by-side, working in tandem to take the thugs down, one-by-one. Nightwing noted that Red Hood was, largely, remaining non-lethal. It made him smile slightly, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still concerned.

Red Hood turned his attention onto Batman and Bane as the two of them traded blows back and forth, using the terrain to their own advantage. He turned his attention to Nightwing and hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

“You got these guys?” he asked. Nightwing jumped over a thug’s head as he charged, spinning through the air and throwing an escrima stick at him. It bounced off of the back of the guy’s head, knocking him out. Nightwing caught the stick as he landed on his feet, just in time to turn and score a double escrima struck on a man behind him. He gave Red Hood a thumbs up and a sly grin.

“I broke you before, I’ll break you again!” Bane growled, slamming his fist down on the ground as Batman dodged to avoid the attack. As he stood back up to his full height, Red Hood scored a kick to his head, making the villain stumble backward. He shook his head and recovered just in time for Batman and Red Hood to both punch him in the face at the same time, sending him crashing into a pile of crates behind him.

“I gotta say, I missed watching you work,” Red Hood said smoothly, adjusting his gauntlet as he glanced over in Batman’s direction. Batman turned his attention from Bane to Red Hood, his eyes widening.

“Look out!” he called. Red Hood turned in time to see one of Bane’s Lieutenants coming right at him.

“Shit, rookie mistake,” Red Hood chastised himself as he attempted to dodge. The man’s venom line had been cut, and so he came as Red Hood with a dagger, slicing his arm. Hood growled, hand clamped over the wound. As the thug brought the dagger down for another strike, Hood caught the blade on the gauntlet hidden underneath his black jacket and swung his other fist into his gut, kicking him away. The Lieutenant attempted to charge in again, but Batman threw a bolas at him and tripped him up. Then, the unthinkable happened; Red Hood pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

“No!” Batman shouted, attempting to pry the gun from Hood’s hand, but Hood headbutted him instead and backflipped a few times to retreat a bit.

“Be glad I only killed one of them,” he said as he threw a dagger at a recovering Bane; the man had to increase his venom intake, after nearly being impaled on a piece of broken wood to repair the damage. The dagger in question sliced through one of the tubes on his venom apparatus. Red Hood pulled out his gun again and pointed it at Bane, but Batman stood in front of him, kncoking him out with a quick blow to the head and then turning his attention back to Red Hood.

“That’s enough! He’s defeated!” Batman growled. Nightwing finished off the last of Bane’s thugs and looked toward the commotion. He made his way over to the two of them, stopping beside a bloody dagger. He frowned at it and then snatched it up, tucking it away in a sterile evidence baggie.

“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Red Hood snapped, standing on top of a shipping crate. “You can’t stop crime, but you can control it. That’s what I’m doing; taking control of Gotham’s crime and reducing its affects on innocent people! You just want to beat it into submission, but that hasn’t worked,” Hood lectured.

“No, you’re just another criminal like Black Mask and Sofia Falcone,” Batman snapped, eyes narrowing. Hood laughed at him and waved his hand dismissively.

“Black Mask and Sofia Falcone are all just a part of the plan. They’re not even contenders for Gotham’s Underworld. They think only of themselves, and I think of the bigger picture,” Hood replied, tapping the side of his head. Batman’s expression softened and he took a few steps toward the Red Hood, holding out his arms in a more welcoming gesture.

“Tell me what happened to you. Let me help you,” he said in a softer tone. “You’re trying to do good, I see that, but there’s a better way.”

“Help me? It’s much too late for that,” Hood replied, throwing a smoke bomb down. When the smoke cleared, the Red Hood was gone. Batman stared silently at the spot where he’d just been.

“Here. I found this. Might be useful,” Nightwing said in an even tone, handing the evidence bag with the knife in it, to Batman. Batman glanced down at it, then looked up at Nightwing.

“It’s his blood, isn’t it?” Nightwing gave a simple nod and turned to leave, summoning his Wingcycle.

“Yeah. I’m gonna head to my Gotham Apartment. I’ll see you later,” he said to Batman, taking off into the night. Batman turned his attention down to the knife, his eyes narrowing…

* * *

“The Red Hood you say?” The Joker asked with a demented grin on his face. Sofia Falcone sat at the table across from the Joker with her armed thugs standing all around him. She slid a folder across the table to the clown. The Joker opened the folder and looked over the photos of this new Red Hood.

“Yes, the Red Hood. That was your old identity, was it not?” she asked. The Joker gave a giggle of amusement as he looked through the photos.

“Indeed it was! Though mine was more classy Maître d' than motorcycle fetish. These kids today,” The Joker said in a mock exasperated tone, still grinning like the devil. He looked up at Sofia, still grinning and asked “why come to me? Didn’t you and Blackie hire Bane to deal with him?”

“Bane wants too much in exchange for the Hood’s death. I also don’t think he’s up for the job. But you…” Sofia’s eyes narrowed a bit; she didn’t like dealing with the Joker, but options were…limited. “You kill this new Red Hood, and I’ll grant you free reign of the city. Just don’t mess with my operations, and you can do whatever the hell you want.”

“Oooh, the old power play, is it? You’re quite the delightful little psychopath, aren’t you?” The Joker asked with a demented giggle. Sofia’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Let’s make one thing clear; I only care about the Falcone name and our Empire. My father was a great man, but he was not strong enough to do what needed to be done. Sometimes, you have to make a deal with the devil to get things done,” Sofia replied. The Joker grinned from ear to ear.

“Sounds like you’ve already made a few deals yourself. You sure you know what you’re doin’ sweetheart?” The Joker asked, grin widening.

“Yes, I do.” The Joker gave a demented giggle.

“Sure, that’s what they all say!”


	10. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Master Bruce, you can’t blame yourself--” Alfred called after him.
> 
> “I was stupid and careless. The body was made of high-end latex. If I’d even bothered to look inside when I brought him home…” Bruce snapped, storming into the gear locker. Alfred stopped in front of the door.
> 
> “Sir, please, remember how distraught you were! Even I found it hard to--”
> 
> “Stupid and careless!”

The Batmobile rolled back into the cave and came to a full stop. Batman jumped out with the evidence bag in hand, containing the dagger that had sliced the Red Hood. With this, he could now begin to get some answers, starting with who, exactly the Red Hood was.

Bruce pulled off his cowl and immediately made his way toward the Batcomputer, carefully taking the dagger out of the bag and placing it on a DNA analyzer. He sat at the computer and began running the test. All that was left to do now, was to wait. Bruce sat at the computer patiently, staring at the screen as the DNA test ran. He added Jason’s DNA as a comparison. Dick at seemed pretty convinced it was him, and there were some things that pointed that way that Bruce had trouble explaining…and yet it couldn’t be possible, could it…?

Bruce turned around and looked toward the display case that held Jason’s Robin gear. A wave of nostalgia hit him then.

_Jason and Bruce had been doing some combat training down in the cave, in full costume. Bruce had discovered earlier on that Jason was a decent street fighter, even without training. He’d taught himself to fight, using dirty tricks, cheap shots, and generally, do whatever it took to win. The streets of the Bowery were different than the rest of Gotham; down there, it was kill or be killed, and so it made sense that Jason had taught himself how to fight._

_Bruce was helping Jason to hone his natural talent, teaching him different martial arts and how to apply certain techniques, blocks, and strikes. To no surprise, Jason was a vastly different fighter than Dick; where Dick was more agile, Jason was more of a straight up brawler, like himself._

_“You have to think on your toes, ready to strike or to counter attack when needed,” Bruce explained, blocking a strike from Jason and throwing a punch of his own. Jason flipped backward a couple of paces and then charged in again._

_“Yeah, I learned that the hard way on the streets. No worries, I got this,” Jason replied with a grin. He threw a feint and as Bruce went to block, Jason instead threw a kick as his shins. Bruce grunted, momentarily surprised by the attack. Jason threw another punch, but Bruce swatted it aside and threw a punch of his own, nailing Jason in the face. The teen grunted and stumbled backward, hitting the ground._

_“Jason, are you alright?” he asked. Kneeling beside the teen and helping him up. “Maybe we should take a break. We’ve been going at it pretty hard--”_

_“Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry. You need to let me make my own mistakes! Now let’s keep going, just a bit more!”_

A beeping from the computer, indicating the results of the test, drew Bruce’s attention back. His eyes widened in shock and he jumped out of his seat. Side by side, an image of the Red Hood, and Jason as Robin, was on the screen, and underneath it, blinked the word ‘MATCH’. The crashing of porcelain caught Bruce’s attention; he turned and saw Alfred standing there, stunned as he looked up at the screen. Bruce turned his attention back to eh screen, his eyes narrowing.

With Alfred in tow, he made some arrangements to go to the cemetery and dig up Jason’s grave. This was the only way to be certain, as much as he didn’t want to do this. It needed to be done, because he needed answers, needed to be certain this wasn’t some kind of sick joke. He and Alfred arrived at the cemetery an hour later. Bruce began digging up Jason’s grave with an excavator while Alfred stood with a lantern and an umbrella. After digging up the grave, Bruce grabbed a crowbar pulled open the casket.

“There he is. Remarkably well preserved, but still at rest,” Alfred said softly. Bruce’s eyes narrowed, grabbing the body by the front of his tuxedo jacket.

“No. He’s not. That’s not flesh,” Bruce growled, tossing the body back down. He climbed out of the grave and stormed back toward the manor with Alfred in tow. The man made his way down to the cave, pulling off the jumpsuit he’d been wearing.

“Master Bruce, you can’t blame yourself--” Alfred called after him.

“I was stupid and careless. The body was made of high-end latex. If I’d even bothered to look inside when I brought him home…” Bruce snapped, storming into the gear locker. Alfred stopped in front of the door.

“Sir, please, remember how distraught you were! Even I found it hard to--”

“Stupid and careless!” Bruce shouted as he exited the locker in full Batman gear, pulling on his cowl.

“Master Bruce! Where are you going?” Alfred called after him. Batman continued toward the Batwing, glancing over his shoulder at the man.

“To talk to the man who did this.”

* * *

Batman’s eyes narrowed dangerously as Ra’s al Ghul’s cliff side palace came into view. He set the Batwing to stealth mode and landed it in a well hidden area in the canyon below, and thus began his climb up toward the palace above.

Batman waited in silence for a few moments as he watched the patrols, waiting for the right moment to strike. He pulled himself up and performed stealth takedowns, silently disabling Ra’s guards, one by one.

Batman jumped through the window to Ra’s study, surprising the man and slammed him into the ground, wrenching his arm behind his back.

“What did you do to Jason? Act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, and I’ll dislocate the shoulder. That’s just to start,” Batman growled, glaring down at Ra’s.

“If you haven’t disabled the roof sensors, my guards will be here in under a minute,” Ra’s ground out.

“Answer me,” Batman hissed, pulling on Ra’s arm harder.

“I am willing…but--”

“My father had nothing to with it,” came Talia’s voice. Batman turned to see her enter the room and released Ra’s. The man disabled the sensors and left the room.

“I shall leave the two of you to talk.” Bruce took off his cowl and both he and Talia watched as Ra’s retreated from the room.

“Talia,” Bruce began, but Talia interrupted him with a kiss. When she pulled away, she flashed an apologetic look and sauntered across the room.

“My father and I have been watching the situation in Gotham. I am here to tell you that I am responsible for it,” she said to him, turning around to face him. Bruce’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you do to him?”

“It started with his death. You arrived in Qurac as Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd, and concocted the story that he died in a terrorist bombing,” Talia began, leaning back against her father’s desk. “Before you departed, I had his body replaced. It was easy enough with a few pay offs here or there.”

“Why?” Bruce asked, taking a few steps toward her.

“I saw how Jason’s death haunted you. I wished to return him to you. Father called off the operation in Qurac in respect to you.”

“So I heard.”

"The Joker was only meant to distract you, by forcing you to choose Jason over stopping my father, but--”

“Your father overestimated his ability to control the Joker,” Bruce cut in. Talia gave a curt nod.

“Indeed. I wanted to return Jason to you and so I bathed his body in the waters of the Lazarus Pit,” Talia answered. Bruce felt the bile rise in his throat, felt a chill run down his spine. He balled his hands into fists upon hearing how Talia had resurrection him. He had seen Ra’s al Ghul use the Lazarus Pit before, had watched the man rejuvenate himself in the healing waters of the pits and watched the man succumb to temporary madness. It was…horrific. “My father and I have been using the Lazarus Pits for quite some time. You know my father as walked this earth for over 600 years. The Lazarus Pit returns his youth to him, but it has long been rumored that the Lazarus Pit is capable of an even greater feat, hence the name ‘Lazarus’,” Talia continued to explain.

“Raising the dead,” Bruce said in a low, ominous tone. Talia closed her eyes and nodded.

“Indeed. Jason’s life was restored, but his mind…I fear a darkness has taken hold in him a result of his resurrection,” she explained “but I helped to train him further. Everything happening in Gotham now, is my doing. I sought to return to you what you had lost, but he was angry. Angry that his murder had gone unavenged. I had hoped that the training would help focus his anger. Instead--”

“You created a weapon,” Bruce interjected.

“So it would seem. Though despite his methods, it would seem he is qute effective in dealing with crime--”

“You did this to Jason. You brought him back to life with a Lazarus Pit, of all things, and then you trained him, turned him into a weapon. And you say you did this for me?” Bruce asked, anger rising. Talia remained passive as Bruce spoke, giving a nod of her head.

“He was angry with you. He felt betrayed, wanted to kill you. But I convinced him otherwise. He no longer wishes you harm, at least not to kill you, however--” Talia paused and opened his eyes again; the lethal assassin had replaced the woman who loved Bruce Wayne and Batman. “he now fights with his eyes wide open, seeing the world for what it truly is. I gave him a new perspective.” She turned and looked out the window. She was silent for a time, and when she turned around next, he was gone.

As Batman flew back toward the states in the Batwing in silence, Alfred came over the radio for him.

“Master Bruce…” Alfred began. There was a pause and Batman remained silent. “Sir, please take this to heart…who Jason was before, how we lost him…and this dakr miracle or curse that has returned him to us…it’s not your fault.” There was another pause and yet Batman still refused to speak. “I know you view his death as your greatest failure, but--”

“His life and death are my greatest failure. Do you remember how he was when I found him?”

“Of course, sir. Fearless, arrogant, brash, and gifted,” Alfred replied.

“Yes. Different than Dick in so many ways, but still full of potential and power. But I also knew he was dangerous. If I hadn’t raised him to be Robin, he would have grown up on the streets, turned into a criminal by necessity.” Batman stared down at the console before him. “And then I got him killed,” he said in a low tone. “My partner. My soldier. My fault…”

* * *

Dick sat on the couch in his Gotham apartment, eating Chinese takeout and watching old re-runs of Law & Order. His apartment was small and possessed little. It was a temporary arrangement and so it didn’t need very much. He didn’t mind either way, but the place was rather…cozy.

Of course, his attention was drawn from the TV when he heard a sound on his roof; he immediately knew what it was. Dick set the takeout box down, swalling his food, and made his way over to the window. He opened it and moments alter, Batman dropped down from the roof above.

“Bruce. Come in,” Dick said softly, gesturing toward the inside of the apartment. Batman said nothing, but made his way inside, examining Dick’s rather messy apartment. Dick raked a hand through his hair and padded back through the apartment, settling back down on the couch. “So…I take it you know, then?” Dick asked coolly. Batman turned to Dick and gave a curt nod.

“Yes. It’s Jason. I ran the DNA test, dug up his grave, and even paid a visit to Ra’s al Ghul to confirm it,” Batman replied, turning fully toward Dick. Dick just gave a nod. “It was Talia,” he added. Dick flashed a surprised look at that piece of information.

“Wait, Talia? She brought Jason back? Why?” Batman remained silent, his eyes narrowing, and it only took Dick all of five seconds to figure it out. “Oh. Of course that’d be why.” Silence filled the room as Dick stared at the floor, and Bamtn stared at…nothing. He was deep in thought contemplating all he’d learned.

“So,” Dick finally said, breaking the silence “how do you want to handle it? Are we…sending him to Blackgate? Arkham?” Batman was silent for a while longer, looking toward the window, looking past it, thinking.

“No…we should…bring him home. We should help him,” Batman replied. Dick smiled a bit and gave a nod in reply.

“Okay,” he answered. He got to his feet and moved toward the man, patting his shoulder. “And you know I’ll help you any way I can.”

“Thank you, Dick. For now though, all we can do is wait. Wait until he makes his move,” the man replied. He moved toward the window and jumped back out onto the fire escape. “I’m…sorry I doubted you Dick.” Dick waved his hand dismissively.

“Believe me, I get it.”


	11. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, what a twist! Didn’t I kill you already? Well, well, it seems the little dead birdie with the clipped wings clawed his way back for revenge! How delightful!” The Joker said with a demented cackle. Jason smirked slightly and grabbed the crowbar, then grabbed the Joker by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the floor.
> 
> “Tell me, what hurts more?” Jason growled, slamming the Joker in the face with the crowbar.

"WHAT?! BANE FAILED?!” Black Mask shouted, flipping his desk across his office. His bodyguards ducked out of the way and even Li stood well out of the way of his boss’ wrath. “We’ve thrown everything at this fucker and he just won’t fuckin’ die!” Black Mask shouted angrily. “And Batman hasn’t taken this fucker out yet?!”

“It appears not sir. Perhaps he’s letting you, Sofia, and the Red Hood fight it out,” Lie replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Black Mask turned and stormed across the room. He stopped in front of Li, who didn’t so much as flinch.

“So what, you sayin’ he’s waitin’ for a winner? Waitin’ to see who survives and take them out?”

“Yes, sir. It certainly seems that way.”

“Fuck that, this ain’t a fuckin’ tennis tournament!” Black Mask growled, slugging the nearest bodyguard. Black Mask kept swearing to himself; before the Red Hood showed up, it was just him and Sofia, duking it out for control of Gotham. Penguin was neutral and he could deal with that, because the man had the sense to keep his nose out of either of their business. But ever since this Red Hood showed up, everything had gone to hell. He turned toward the bay window overlooking the city below.

“No, Batman ain’t just letting us fight it out. Maybe he can’t catch this guy either,” he said. Suddenly, he saw a red dot on his forehead. “Aw hell.” He looked to the building across the way, and sure enough, there was the Red Hood, waving to him while hefting a bazooka over his shoulder. Black Mask turned and ran, shoving his bodyguards out of the way. “Outta my way!” he shouted, with Li following after him.

“Wow, he can really move when he wants to,” Hood said to himself, pulling the trigger. The building shook with the explosion as Black Mask’s office exploded. Black Mask and Li cut down through an emergency stairwell, with Black Mask nearly beheaded by the door as it was blown off its hinges and sticking into the wall.

“Are you okay sir?” Li asked, adjusting his glasses. Black Mask rubbed his throat, staring at the remains of the door embedded in the wall.

“Well, I’m not dead. That’s somethin’. He growled and looked toward Li. “Enough is enough. It’s time to change up the ground war,” he ground out.

“How so?” Li asked.

“I’m being forced into negotiating with a psychotic.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No. It’s going to be a nightmare.” Black Mask continued down the stairs, gesturing for Li to follow. He rounded up a few of his men as well, and made it down into the sub-level parking garage. Black Mask hopped into a black car with Li in the passenger’s seat, and three body guards in the back. Half a dozen more followed him out in a black van. Black Mask made his way toward Arkham Island, noting the nervous glance Li shot him.

“You’re going to hire the Joker?” Li asked. Black Mask merely grunted in response. Li sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sir, at great risk to myself, I have to say, this is the worst idea--”

“Don’t you think I know that?! But I ain’t got any other choice,” Black Mask shouted, stopping in front of the asylum. Black Mask signaled his man on the inside, and then he and his entourage made their way inside. Down the hallway they went toward the Joker’s cell. But when they arrived--

“Hello there! Mista Jay’s not in right now, care to leave a message?” Harley Quinn asked, turning around in the chair and popping her gum. Black Mask looked her over and quickly noted she was most definitely not wearing asylum attire. He and his thugs quickly pulled out their guns, but they soon found themselves surrounded by Joker’s gang.

“Fuck,” Black Mask muttered to himself. Harley rose from her seat and leaned against her mallet.

“Tsk, tsk. So rude, pulling a gun on ya host! Didn’t ya motha eva teach ya manners?” She asked with a faux frown. Her frown soon faded into a grin. “Mista Jay is invitin’ ya to a party with Miss Sofia! It’s gonna be a blast!”

* * *

The Joker cackled like a maniac as he gave a bow, standing on top of a truck in the middle of a bridge. Inside the truck, was Black Mask, his men, and various members of Red Hood’s gang. Helicopters hovered overhead and the GCPD had the bridge closed off and the Joker surrounded.

“You damn psychopath! Let me outta here!” Black Mask shouted.

“This wasn’t a part of the deal!” Sofia called out. The Joker giggled and looked down at them from outside of the truck.

“Deal? What deal?” he asked, followed by a cackle.

“That’s what you get for dealin’ with a psychotic,” Black Masked snapped.

“You went to Arkham to deal with him too. Don’t lecture me,” Sofia snapped back.

“Children, children, no need to argue! You’ll all die together soon enough!” The Joker called with a demented giggle. He started pouring gasoline on the thugs below while singing to himself. “I’m a little teapot short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout. The Joker pulled out a lighter and attempted to light it, but got no flame. Suddenly, the helicopter lights moved away from him. Curious, he looked toward where they’d moved to.

“Heeeey, look at you Mr. Hood! Or do you prefer Red?” The Joker called. He pointed up toward Red Hood and continued “I used to wear an outfit a lot like that! Mine was more flashy Maître d' than Motorcycle fetish!” The Joker looked down at the lighter and attempted to light it again. “Can you give me a moment? I was just in the middle of setting your friends on fire.”

“Go for it. D’you really think I care if that scum dies?”

“Don’t know. I just wanted your attention,” The Joker replied, continuing to fumble with the lighter.

“Oh you’ve always had my attention, but what I really wanted was an audience with you,” Hood shouted down to the demented clown below. The Joker paused and glanced up toward the Red Hood, intrigued.

“I’m sorry, but that seems to imply that _you_  organized this little clambake,” the Joker said to him with a grin on his face.

“I did. Sure, I had grand plans for Gotham City, but the end game was always about getting you out of Arkham. I knew it would only be a matter of time before either Sofia or Black Mask got so desperate, that they’d turn to you,” Red Hood explained. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the Clown Prince. “I also knew that you’d never pass up the opportunity to check out the guy wearing your old number.”

“So, I’ve been bamboozled. Oh my,” The Joker deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t undersell it. It took a lot of work to bring about our reunion.”

“Reunion? Have we met before?”

“Yes. We have.”

“Well then! Here’s to warm memories!” The Joker replied, triggering the lighter. He gave a demented laugh and then gave a bow, dropping it into the truck below. The thugs trapped inside the truck screamed in fear as the fire lit the gasoline. Almost as if on cue, the Batwing flew over head and doused the entire truck in foam, putting out the flames. Then, on the second pass, Batman released a hook and grabbed the Joker.

“Nightwing, I’ve got the Joker. How are you handling the situation at Arkham with Harley Quinn?” Batman asked over the intercom. There was a pause, followed by the sounds of combat.

“Still working on it. They’ve pretty much taken over the whole damn building,” Nightwing replied.

“Understood. I’ll wrap up here and I’ll be there soon to aid you.” But things didn’t go quite like he had planned. The Red Hood raced across the top of the bridge and jumped, grabbing a hold of the line and cutting it, dumping both the Joker and himself into the bay below.

Batman did another pass over the bay, looking for Red Hood and the Joker, but saw no sign of them. His eyes narrowed as a familiar voice came over the jet’s radio.

“I’ve got him. If you want him, meet me at Crime Alley. Alone.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed, but he turned the Batwing in the direction of the Bowery nonetheless…

* * *

Hood kicked down the door to a room inside a decrepit, old, abandoned apartment building. He threw the bound Joker across the room. Joker hit the ground and grunted as he rolled across the floor a bit. The Joker gave a giggle and then pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Okay, what’s the plan? Slumber party? Charades? A little truth or dare? Yes! I’ll start with dare!”

Hood glared silently at the clown across the room. He knelt down beside a duffelbag and opened it. He reached inside and produced a crowbar.

“Or maybe I’ll just go with ‘truth’.” Hood approached the clown, patting the crowbar, and swung it at him. The Joker grunted as he was struck, and Hood brought it down on him again, and again.

“Tell me,” Hood murmured, standing back up again “how does that feel?”

“Well y’know, it only hurts when I laugh,” the Joker replied with a giggle. Hood’s eyes narrowed and viciously kicked the clown in his stomach.

“Good.” The Joker gasped and groaned a bit, shaking his head. He glanced up at Hood again after taking a moment to recover.

“Hey, I gotta know. Who are you? You said we knew each other, and you seem awfully familiar. We double at the prom? Or maybe blow up a school bus together?”

Hood patted the crowbar and glared down at the clown.

“No. I’m just something you helped make.”

“Oooh, cryptic. Tell me more!”

“Gladly,” Hood replied. He set the crowbar aside and took off his helmet and set it aside. The Joker squinted a bit and then recognition donned on him.

“Oh, what a twist! Didn’t I kill you already? Well, well, it seems the little dead birdie with the clipped wings clawed his way back for revenge! How delightful!” The Joker said with a demented cackle. Jason smirked slightly and grabbed the crowbar, then grabbed the Joker by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the floor.

“Tell me, what hurts more?” Jason growled, slamming the Joker in the face with the crowbar. “A, or B?” He swung it again, and again. “Backhand or forehand?” Jason struck the clown again and again, and again. His blood sang at the sounds of crowbar meeting flesh, the pained grunts and groans from the Joker. Past all of the nightmares and panic attacks Jason had has since his resurrection, he’d only ever dreamed of this moment; of his revenge, of making the Joker __suffer__  for his death. When he was done, he grabbed the clown up and threw him into a chair and tied him to it.

“Hehehehe, seems you’ve slipped into a new coat there, bird boy. Not only didja steal my old PJs, but ya seem to have realized how much more fun things are on my side of the street!” The Joker taunted. Jason turned and round house kicked the clown, knocking to the floor. Jason hauled him back up and looked the demented clown right in the eye.

“You listen to me, Joker. I’m nothing like you. I know what I do, and I know why I do it. You are, clinically speaking, a whack-job,” Jason turned away from the Joker and picked a knife up off of a table nearby and ran his finger across the blade. “But I know a secret. A good one.” Jason grinned and turned back toward the clown, throwing the knife at the Joker. The Joker grunted in pain as the blade sank into his shoulder.

“Urgh…a secret, eh? Well, I do love secrets. Do tell,” the Joker replied, spitting blood onto the floor and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Jason moved toward the Joker and gripped the handle of the knife.

“You’re not as crazy as you’d have everyone believe you are. Or even as crazy as _you_ believe,” Jason told him, working the blade in his shoulder before tearing it out. He turned back toward the table and grabbed a med kit to quickly patch him up; he couldn’t have the Joker dying on him _just yet_.

“It just makes it easier to justify every sick, monstrous thing you’ve ever done by playing the part of the clown.” Jason gripped the Joker by the jaw and forced their eyes to meet, then grinned smugly at him. “You’re crazy, pal, but you ain’t that crazy.”

The Joker frowned at Jason’s words and pulled himself free, glaring down at the floor. Jason stood up to his full height and donned a prideful grin.

“Well would you look at that. Wiped a smile off of the Joker’s face. Now _that’s_  funny!” Jason said, laughing out loud as he dragged the Joker to a closet and slammed the door shut on him.


	12. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah memories,” came the Red Hood’s voice behind him. Batman turned and at the opposite end of the alleyway, stood the Red Hood. “Hello Bruce. So glad you could make it.”
> 
> “It ends tonight,”Batman said to him in an even tone, taking a few cautious steps toward him. “All of it.” Hood’s eyes narrowed at him, slowly reaching behind his back.
> 
> “Oh, I know that. Better than anyone,” Hood replied as the sound of thunder boomed overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is a long one. xD I probably could've made it into two separate chapters, but there's nowhere where a new chapter could start. So, enjoy, I guess. >:3

Nightwing grunted as Harley’s hammer managed a glancing blow, causing him to stumble backward. He back flipped a few times to put some distance between himself and her, keeping a close eye on her movements even as she attempted to charge him. He’d worked his way through the asylum slowly, carefully, and methodically up to this point, freeing the imprisoned staff and recapturing areas of the asylum up to this point. The staff was now restoring order to most of the rest of the asylum. All that was left now, was to deal with the ringleader behind it all; Harley Quinn.

“Buzz off Nightwing! My puddin’ is puttin’ on a show for the Red Hood, and you ain’t invited!” Harley shouted with a giggle of amusement as she swung her mallet at him. Nightwing jumped up, over Harley’s head. As he twisted through the air, he grabbed a few explosive wingdings and threw them, aiming for her mallet. They stuck into the head of the mallet and beeped. Harley gasped and threw the mallet away. The wingdings exploded in a small radius, destroying the mallet and sending Harley fumbling head over heels across the room.

“Your game is over Harley,” Nightwing said with a smirk, clapping his hands together as he landed on his feet. Harley pouted and jumped back to her feet, rushing Nightwing. He rolled his eyes and drew his escrima sticks. He waited patiently for her to draw closer, then, as she threw her first punch, he ducked aside. In quick succession, he landed a series of quick escrima blows and followed up with a roundhouse kick, sending her crashing to the ground.

“Owie,” she murmured, while Nightwing tied her up. Nightwing stowed his escrima sticks away and made his way out of the room, then activated his comm link.

“Batman, I’ve finished cleaning up the mess at Arkham. Where are you? I’ll come and help.”

“Negative. I’m going to meet with the Red Hood. Alone,” Batman replied before cutting the link. Nightwing snorted to himself, and raced outside of the asylum. He plugged a command into his gauntlet and summoned the Wingcycle. Without a second thought, he hopped onto it and raced away from the asylum. He knew Jason well enough to know where they’d be meeting; Crime Alley.

* * *

The Batwing hovered over Crime Alley; Batman dropped down onto the street below and sent the jet away. Batman scanned the area, his eyes falling on the spot where he’d first met Jason.

_“You do realize that that is the batmobile. Right?”_

_“Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley. Right?”_

Batman smiled a bit at the memory; he remembered how impressed he’d been by Jason’s courage, his boldness. But his trip down memory lane was interrupted.

“Ah memories,” came the Red Hood’s voice behind him. Batman turned and at the opposite end of the alleyway, stood the Red Hood. “Hello Bruce. So glad you could make it.”

“It ends tonight,”Batman said to him in an even tone, taking a few cautious steps toward him. “All of it.” Hood’s eyes narrowed at him, slowly reaching behind his back.

“Oh, I know that. Better than anyone,” Hood replied as the sound of thunder boomed overhead. The sky grew darker as he and Batman stared each other down, and then the rain began to fall. In a quick movement, he pulled a dagger from his belt and rushed Batman. Batman reacted quickly and threw dozens of mini-grenades in his path. Hood skidded to a stop and back flipped a few times. The mini-grenades exploded and the force of the explosion sent him flying backward. He skidded to a stop across the ground even as Batman charged him. Hood reached inside his jacket and threw a handful of shuriken stars in response.

Batman ducked behind a dumpster at the last moment as one of the shurikens ripped a small piece of his cape off. He heard the footfalls of Red Hood’s approach and stuck a couple of propulsion grenades to the dumpster. They kicked on and sent it flying in Hood’s direction. Hood turned toward the wall and jumped up against it, pushing off, and sailing over the dumpster. He drew his guns while still in midair and attempted to fire on Bamtan, but he was a tad too slow; Batman threw a line which wrapped around Hood’s ankles, going taut. He gave it a hard tug and dragged Hood back down to the ground.

“You and your toys,” Hood said with a laugh. “But I’ve got a few of my own.” He pulled out a taser and activated it, pressing it to the line. The current ran up the length of the wire and shocked Batman, forcing him to release the line. Hood quickly freed himself and ran toward Batman with the dagger drawn. Batman recovered from the shock and threw a handful of mini arc grenades. Hood instantly recognized them and swore loudly.

“Shit!” He quickly drew his grappling gun and fired a line to the fire escape, pulling himself off the ground just in time, as bursts of electricity exploded from the ground, drawn to the puddles on the ground. He turned and saw Batman following after him, and so he continued his ascent to the roof.

The rain came down hard and thunder and lightning cracked overhead. Hood glanced up at the sky, briefly, before spinning around on the spot, just in time to see Batman coming at him. Batman tackled him and the two of them grappled across the roof. Hood managed to get the upper hand, briefly, just long enough to plant his dagger in the roof, through Batman’s cape, effectively pinning him to the ground. Hood managed to escape Batman’s grip and got back to his feet. Batman attempted to pursue, but found himself stuck, glancing back to see his cape pinned to the ground. Before he could reach back and wrench it free, Hood landed blow after blow on his face. On the next attack, Batman grabbed his fist, wrenched him forward and headbutted him. He flipped Hood over his head and turned, ripping the dagger free and tossing it aside.

Hood skidded to a stop across the roof of the building as Batman charged him, the two of them clashing head on. The rain made things a bit more difficult, making the roof slippery and harder to maintain footing, but the two of them fought on, exchanging blow after blow.

“You haven’t lost your touch Bruce!” Hood quipped, feinting a punch for Batman to block, only to receive a headbutt instead. Batman stumbled back and as he did, Hood grabbed his cowl and yanked it off. Bruce reoriented himself and glared across the roof top at Hood, maintaining a fighting stance. “But wow, look at you; you got old,” Hood taunted, grabbing his dagger up off of the ground.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“Yes we do,” Hood spat back, tossing the cowl back to Bruce. “But in all fairness, I think we should keep things even” he went on reaching to the back of the helmet. He pressed a button on the back of the helmet which opened a panel at the base of his skull. He gripped the helmet and slowly pulled it off, dropping it on the ground.

“Jason,” Bruce murmured. Lightning flashed above as Jason’s lips curled into a smug grin.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Bruce said to him. Jason snorted in response, still sporting his grin as he twirled the dagger around in his hand.

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“Please, nobody else has to get hurt.”

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Jason, I just want to help you. I know what happened. Please, give up the Joker and turn yourself in. We can go home, we can work this out. Just…please…son.” Jason’s smile turned into a scowl, slashing his dagger wielding hand through the air angrily.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t _ever_  call me that again! You lost the right!” Jason snarled. His grin returned shortly thereafter as he stowed the dagger away on his belt. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me; you had your chance and you blew it.”

“Jason, it doesn’t have to be like this. I know what happened to you, and if you let me, I can help.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already. I guess that means you and Talia had a little chat about my little resurrection,” Jason snapped back. “Does it make it easier for you to think that my dip in Ra’s little fountain of youth turned me rabid?” He asked, grin fading and turning into a frown. “Or maybe, this is just the real me.” He kicked the helmet over toward Bruce. The man glanced down at it as he caught it underneath his boot and frowned. He looked back up at Jason who flashed a smug grin, pulling a trigger out of his jacket. He pressed the button and the helmet started to beep and the eyes lit up. Bruce dived out of the way as it exploded. He rolled to a stop across the roof and pulled his cowl back on in time to see Jason charging him again.

Batman tackled him, arms wrapping around his waist. The two men flew off of the roof of the building and landed on a lower roof of Gotham Cathedral below. The two of them were thrown apart, each rolling across the roof in front of the statues of the Saints behind them. Jason was the first to recover and charged Batman as he got to his feet. He grabbed his dagger again and swung it at the man.

Batman grabbed his arm and wrenched him forward, punching him in the gut, followed by an elbow to the jaw, then a palm strike to the chest. Jason dropped the dagger and stumbled backward, recovering quickly to throw several blood red explosive batarangs at the charging Batman. Batman ducked to the side to avoid them and the batarangs stuck into one of the statues of behind them. As the two of them returned to exchanging blows, the batarangs exploded, cracking the statue and causing it to fall. As it crashed to the ground, the two of them were momentarily jarred by the impact as the entire building shook.

Jason swung a fist, landing a blow on Batman’s jaw. He followed it up with another strike, then an elbow. He pushed the advantage, but Batman was a bit faster, deflecting another blow and attempted to throw him. Instead, Jason used his momentum to roll across Batman’s back and darted across the roof, grabbing up his dagger. Batman charged again and Jason ducked under his arm, digging his dagger into the man’s utility belt and cutting it free.

As he dodge rolled forward past Batman, he kicked the belt across the building, then turned back toward his opponent, once again using his momentum to launch himself forward. Batman threw a punch but Jason dodged it, whirling around Batman to wrap an arm around his neck and hold the dagger there.

“Tell me; what bothers you more? That your greatest failure has returned from the grave? Or that I’ve become a better Batman than you?” Batman growled but saw an opportunity; Jason had lowered his guard momentarily, making him vulnerable. He grabbed the man by his arm and with all his strength, he threw Jason over his head. Jason landed on his feet and the two of them proceeded to grapple over the dagger.

“You’re ruling through intimidation and murder! You’re just another criminal!”

“I’m what this city needs!”

Batman managed to gain the upper hand for a moment and took full advantage of it. He overpowered Jason and rammed the dagger into the ground. But Jason too, took advantage of the situation, to dance behind Batman and wrap a wire around his throat.

“You gave me a good foundation, but I took it and I built on it! I busted my ass, training, for _this_  moment! I made myself stronger than you! Better than you!” Jason growled as he reached for his grappling gun and fired a line to the rooftop above. As the hook grabbed onto the roof, he let the gun go, pressing the trigger and dragging Batman up to the roof above. Jason used one of the statues to climb up after him. Then, as Batman got to his feet and pulled the line free, Jason pounced, raining blow after blow on the man’s face. Batman caught his fist on the fourth punch and threw a punch of his own, nailing Jason in the face. The man stumbled back, hitting a wall behind him, then Batman pinned him, reaching into his glove.

“Hidden goodies all around, huh? We’re both just a couple of walking armories, aren’t we?” Jason asked with a sly grin. Batman pulled a flare from his glove and glared back at Jason.

“Maybe so, but let’s see how well you do without your toys,” he replied, lighting it and throwing it onto Jason’s jacket. Jason’s eyes widened, briefly flashing back to the explosion, the moment just before he died. He snapped back to reality, then kicked Batman away as his jacket caught fire. Batman grabbed onto the ledge to stop his fall, watching as Jason’s jacket floated down to the ground below. He glanced back up at Jason to see the man throw a line to a building across the way.

The line went taut around the neck of a gargoyle and as he jumped and flew across the way, Batman grabbed him around the waist. The weight was too much and the line snapped in mid air. The two of them dropped, Jason landing on a ledge below and Batman catching it, pulling himself up as Jason fled. Jason glanced back briefly before he rounded a corner, then he pushed himself off against the wall and crashed through the window of a condemned building across the way. Batman followed close behind, following his lead.

As Batman flew through the window, Jason attempted to clothesline him, having thought he’d be vulnerable while still in midair. Instead, he received a kick to the gut, sending him crashing through an old bathtub, shattering the porcelain as he crashed through it and against the wall behind him.

“Enough! It’s over!” Batman shouted at him. Jason glared and gritted his teeth, jumping back to his feet. He lunged in at Batman and threw a punch; Batman feinted to the left and kneed him in the gut, slamming him into the bathroom wall. He grabbed Jason’s arm and wrenched him froward, slamming him into the opposite wall. Jason grunted in pain, grabbing up a jagged piece of wall tile and slicing at Batman. Batman ducked back once, twice, then Batman deflected the third swipe upward, followed by a punch to Jason’s face.

Jason flipped backward a few times to regain his footing. He threw a punch, but again, Batman dodged, then kneed him in the gut once more, followed by a hammer fist to his back, knocking him to the ground. Batman grabbed him up and threw him into the wall, headbutting him, then throwing him into the opposite wall and grabbed him by the front of his body armor.

“You say you want to be better than me? But it won’t happen! Not like this!” Batman shouted. He threw a palm strike at Jason’s chest, sending him crashing through the wall and sliding across the floor in the adjacent room, toppling head over heels.

Batman padded into the room slowly, his expression softening a bit as he stopped in front of Jason.

“I know I failed you Jason. I tried to save you. I’m trying to save you now,” Batman said softly. “Please…let me help you,” he added, holding out his hand. Jason snorted and pulled a gun on him, tearing off and discarding his ripped domino mask.

“You’re joking, right? Is that honestly what you think this is about?” Jason snapped, pushing himself into a backward somersault and getting to his feet, his gun trained on Batman. “That you let me die? That you failed to save me?”

“Jason--”

“I don’t know what clouds your judgement more; your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality,” Jason snapped at him. “Bruce, I _forgive you_ for not saving me. But why…why on God’s Green Earth--” Jason began, turning toward the closet door. He kicked it open to reveal the Joker hidden inside, bound to a chair. “--Is he still alive?!”

The Joker opened his eyes, looking back and forth between Jason and Batman. A grin spread across his face as he started to laugh. He ‘hopped’ out of the closet, still bound to the chair and still laughing like a maniac.

“Gotta give the boy points! He came all the way back from the dead to make this shindig happen!” Batman and Jason both ignored him, but the clown seemed undeterred, glancing back over his shoulder at Jason. ”So, whose got a camera?” he asked, turning his attention back onto Batman. “Ooh, get one of me and the kid. Then of me and you. Then one with the crowbar--”

Jason backhanded him in the back of the head, sending the clown crashing to the floor. He knelt beside him and threatened, in a low tone “you’ll be quiet as a church mouse, or I’ll put one in your lap first.”

“Party pooper. No cake for you.” Jason stood back up, training the gun on Batman again.

“Ignoring everything he’s done in the past--blindly, stupidly--disregarding the graveyards he’s filled, the friends he’s crippled, I thought--” Jason paused, eyes narrowing at Batman. “I thought…I thought I’d be the last person you let him hurt.”

“Jason…”

“If it had been you that he’d beaten like that, if it had been you he’d taken from this world--” Jason paused, his throat tightening a little as he fought back his own emotions “--I would have done nothing but search the globe for this pile of evil death-worshipping garbage and sent him off to hell!”

“You don’t understand. I don’t think you’ve ever understood.”

“What? That your moral code just won’t allow for that? That it’d be too hard to cross that line?”

“No! God almighty…no. That it’d be too damned easy,” Bruce replied quickly, pulling off his cowl. He glanced down at the Joker who seemed unsurprised; the clown had long since known his identity and everyone around him as well. No, he wanted to look Jason in the eye as he talked to him--talked to his son. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is kill him. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about subjecting him to all the horrific pain and agony he’s inflicted onto others…and then ending him.”

Jason flinched slightly at that revelation; that was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear. But what came next, came as no surprise.

“But if I cross that line, if I allow myself to go down that path--” Bruce murmured, glancing down at the floor. He paused for a moment, lifting his head again to look right at Jason “--I’ll never come back from that.”

“Aw, so you do think about me!” the Joker quipped.

“What? But I’m not talking about killing Penguin. I’m not talking about Scarecrow, or Freeze, or Dent. I’m talking about him!” Jason replied, pointing his gun down at the Joker. “Just him! And doing it because--” Jason paused, swallowing a lump in his throat as his emotions bubbled up to the surface, long suppressed and hidden away. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked back at Bruce again. “--because he took _me_ away from _you_.”

“Aw, how sweet! I almost wish I had a video camera to record this touching moment! And then a bucket, so I could vomit,” The Joker put in, giggling hysterically. Jason glared down at the Joker, growling menacingly as he viciously kicked him in the back.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jason snarled angrily.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” Bruce replied, pulling his cowl back on. “There are many things I would do to help you Jason, but this is…this isn’t one of them.”

Jason glared angrily at the man, gnashing his teeth as his fury rose.

“Well you don’t have a choice,” Jason growled. He reached for his other gun and tossed it to Batman. Batman glared down at the gun, then looked back up at Jason.

“This is what it has all been about. This. You, and me, and him,” Jason ground out. He stomped down on the chair, shattering it and freeing the Joker. He grabbed the clown up and hauled him up on his feet, jamming the barrel of the gun into his right temple. “If you won’t kill this evil, sadistic mother fucker, _I will._ ”

“Jason, I won’t--”

“You don’t have a choice! If you want to save him, you’ll have to shoot me, _right in my face._ ”

“This is turning out even better than I’d hope,” The Joker said gleefully. Batman’s eyes narrowed and then he dropped the gun and turned his back.

“You have to decide! Pick it back up and decide, _now_!” Jason hollered.

“No.”

“You would’ve killed him if it had been Dick, and not me,” Jason hissed, throwing a low blow at the man as another tear rolled down his cheek. Deep inside his heart, he felt that to be true. If it had been Dick that had died…

Batman paused at the words, hesitating for a moment. Jason growled and jammed the gun against the Joker’s head again.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Jason asked, his voice wavering as he continued. “If it had been Dick that the Joker had killed instead of me, if it had been Dick that died, you would have crossed that line. Wouldn’t you?”

“No!” came Nightwing’s voice. Jason turned, startled, as he turned and dragged the Joker with him. Nightwing burst through the doorway and disarmed him with an escrima blow, following up with a roundhouse kick. Jason and the Joker both crashed to the floor, Jason’s handgun sliding across the floor away from him. Batman quickly grabbed it up and threw the both of them out of the window.

The Joker started cackling like a maniac from his place on the floor.

“Ya did it! Ya actually did it! You and bird boy number one got the drop on ol’ Hoodie over there, and won!” The Joker cackled clutching at his stomach. Nightwing moved across the room to try and help Jason, but Jason somersaulted away from him, reaching for a trigger. “And yet, everyone still loses!” Jason pressed the button on the trigger and a series of LED lights lit up on the other side of the room.

“Bombs,” Batman murmured wide-eyed at the fifteen second countdown. He rushed across the room to disarm them, but the Joker tackled him, wrapping his hands around his throat.

“No, don’t spoil it! I’m the only one whose gonna get what he wants tonight! Bing, bang, boom, we all go out together!” The Joker called with a demented cackle. Nightwing turned from Jason and rushed to Bruce’s aid, grabbing the Joker by the back of his jacket and throwing him across the room. Batman got back to his feet, but the clock was down to five seconds.

“Nightwing!” he shouted. Nightwing wasted not a second more and grabbed Jason, throwing him out the window and following suit. The entire building exploded moments later. Nightwing shouted as the force of the explosion threw him clear across the street, slamming into the wall of the adjacent building and tumbled down to the ground. He groaned in pain, pushing himself up, his vision blurry. He looked toward the demolished building and gasped.

“Batman!” he called, turning to see Jason stumbling away. He bit his lip and glanced back and forth between the two of them, then raced up the rubble pile. He breathed a sigh of relief as Bruce pulled himself out of the wreckage, hauling the unconscious Joker up with him.

Nightwing looked down toward the street and watched as Jason limped around the corner of a building across the street.

“Jason…” he murmured.


	13. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d been prepared to die in that building and would have been content with that, so long as the Joker was dead…and yet here he was, still alive. And the Joker was still alive. It was truly over. Everything had gone to hell.

Jason groaned and pulled himself free of the rubble, shaking his head. As he pulled himself to his feet, his knees nearly buckled beneath him. He gasped as he pulled himself free from the twisted heap of rock and metal, pain lancing up his side. He glanced down at his left side to see a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his left flank. He groaned in pain as he pulled it out, clamping his hand over the still bleeding wound. He glanced back toward the demolished building and saw Batman and Nightwing pull themselves from the rubble. Now seemed like a good time to make his escape.

The GCPD would be here any minute now to take the Joker away. There was no way he was dead, otherwise Batman would have pursued him already. With some effort Jason managed to work himself up to a slight jog. He moved with a limp, his left ankle having twisted and couple that with the searing pain from his shrapnel would, and it was amazing that his every move wasn’t hell.

The betrayal was a lot more painful than the injuries though. Why the hell couldn’t Bruce just make a god damn choice?! The Joker was still alive, his plan had failed, and word would be getting out now that Batman had bested the Red Hood. Everything would fall apart, leaving him with nothing. The bombs were his final preparation, his fail safe, in case things fell apart. He’d been prepared to die in that building and would have been content with that, so long as the Joker was dead…and yet here he was, still alive. And the Joker was still alive. It was truly over. Everything had gone to hell.

“Fuck,” Jason cursed out loudly, pausing for a moment to pound the wall with his fist. The pain was both mental and physical and now he was on the run. He’d need a place to escape to, a place to hide long enough to patch his injuries up. After that, he’d need to get out of Gotham. There was no way he could stay here; with his reputation in the Underworld soon to be shattered, the GCPD, Batman, and Nightwing all after him, and probably half the Underworld vying for total control of the city, he wouldn’t be safe here.

“God dammit,” Jason cursed again, glancing up to the skyline as it flared to life with the first rays of dawn. He covered his eyes and cursed again and continued on his way, sticking to the alleyways and the shadows to avoid detection. His closest safe house from here was his apartment, or rather “Jared Thomas’” apartment. He wouldn’t have much time though; he’d have to patch himself up, pack some essentials, and book it out of there. Dick knew about that place, so it wouldn’t be long before the man came knocking at his door.

 _Blüdhaven _.__ Blüdhaven was where Gotham’s criminals would often flee to in order to escape the GCPD or avoid going to Arkham. Dick was know as “The Batman of Blüdhaven” however. It was his city, and for a moment, it didn’t seem like a good place to run to. On the other hand, Jason was confident in his ability to hide in plain sight, and what better place to hide than right under all of their noses. So Jason mentally cobbled together a plan to escape to Blüdhaven, and there he would stay, just long enough to figure out what he’d do, or where he’d go, next.

Jason finally arrived back at his apartment building by some miracle. His feet had carried him here, but his mind had been such a mess with a barrage of thoughts, feelings, and ideas, that he’d barely even registered the trip back here. He wasted no time and snuck into his apartment through the window, closing it shut and limping into the bathroom.

He grabbed up the first aid kit and tore off the remains of his Kevlar top, discarding it to the floor, and began cleaning and dressing his wounds himself. He limped into the kitchen with the first aid kit tucked under his arm and dug through the refrigerator for a bottle of beer, taking a swig of it before dropping himself down at the kitchen table. He heaved an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before getting back to work patching himself up.

The the better part of the next hour, Jason sat in the kitchen, drinking his beer and drowning his sorrows. Everything had gone straight to hell and now he had nothing left. _Well, I still have my life. For whatever that’s worth…_ After draining the bottle, Jason groaned and shoved himself up, out of his seat, and stumbled into the bedroom. He dug through his closet, stowing the gear hidden in the false wall, away, and then packing clothes on top of it. He pulled on a black t-shirt, and was prepared to head out, when he heard something in the living room. Jason’s head snapped in the direction of the living room and grabbed a handgun, slowly making his way out of his bedroom.

“Dick,” Jason said sourly, glaring at the man while holding a gun on him. Dick turned, still garbed in his Nightwing gear, sans the mask. He raised his hand defensively, to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Jason,” Dick said softly, looking the man over curiously. “You’re injured.” Jason snorted in response.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” he snapped. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason growled, gun still pointed at the man’s chest.

“I came to find you, Jay,” Dick said softly, holding his arms out. Jason snorted again.

“Yeah, well…you found me. Now what?”

“Now what? I’m going to take you come,” Dick said softly. Jason scoffed and shook his head.

“Home? And where would that be? The manor? That’s not my fucking home,” Jason snapped at him. “It hasn’t been my home for a long time.”

“C’mon Jason. The manor will always be your home,” Dick murmured, putting on his best smile. Jason flinched a bit, his hand shaking. He didn’t really want to shoot Dick, but he didn’t want to go back there, either. There was no place for him there, nor here in Gotham.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Dick. You’re going to let me finished packing my shit, and I’m going to leave,” Jason said firmly. Dick didn’t falter in the least, even in the face of Jason’s resolve, with a gun trained on him.

“Jason, you’re injured. You need medical attention. Definitely more than that cheap patch job you’ve done to yourself. Just…come home, please Little Wing?” Dick asked. Jason growled at the use of the old nickname, shaking his head.

“No! I’m not going back there! God dammit, Dick!” Jason shouted, finally lowering the gun. He stormed into his bedroom and continued packing. Dick padded after him, stopping in the doorway.

“Alright. I get it,” Dick said softly, prompting Jason to stop and look over toward the man, confused.

“What?”

“I get it. You’re still pissed at Bruce. I…supposed it’s not exactly the best place for you to be right now,” Dick said softly. He took a chance and approached Jason, who seemed to tense up. He carefully sat down on the bed beside him, staring at the wall. Jason continued to pack, albeit a little more slowly.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Jason asked in a softer tone. Dick glanced over at him, and then back to the wall, clasping his hands together.

“I don’t really…want to force you to do something you don’t want to do. As much as I want to…do what’s best for you…I can’t make you do anything,” Dick replied. Jason paused for a moment and looked over at Dick with a slight frown.

“No. You can’t.”

“I just want you to be safe. And happy. Even if you’re not with me, y’know?” he went on, flashing Jason a smile. He dared to reach out and grab Jason’s hand. Jason blushed a little, tempted to pull away, but he didn’t.

“Dick…how can you…after everything I’ve done?” Jason asked, his tone a little harsher than he’d wanted. He pulled away at last and paced across the room with his bag over his shoulder. Dick followed him with just his eyes. “You realized you make no fucking sense right now, right?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. Dick laughed a bit and gave a nod, rising to his feet.

“I know.” A silence stretched between the two of them, the atmosphere quickly growing rather awkward. Dick decided to take another chance and closed the distance between them. He pressed his lips against Jason’s in a sweet, tender kiss. His hand came up to cup Jason’s jaw, and his thumb gently brushed against his cheek. Jason didn’t pull back; if anything he seemed to relax into the kiss a little. When they parted, Dick took a few steps back.

“Jay…why don’t you come with me? To Blüdhaven? You can stay with me for a while, while you recover?” Dick suggested. Jason was silent for a time, and honestly, a bit confused. After everything he’d done, after he’d nearly killed them all, Dick was still willing to stand by him? To help him? But then, he reminded himself, that was who Dick had always been; he was the one who was always looking for the best in people, even when they seemed hopeless.

Jason thought about it, silently, for a time. He certainly couldn’t go to Blüdhaven now that, because Dick would be looking for him there. He didn’t really...have anywhere to go. Although he began to think to himself, that just maybe, the Red Hood still had some good he could do. After all, it would’ve been a shame to let all that training go to waste. And yet, he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. The last five or six years had all been in preparation for last night. So what, exactly, was next?

“I’ll pass,” Jason said flatly, waving his hand dismissively. Dick seemed a little bit disappointed in his answer, but nodded nonetheless.

“I understand.”

“But Dickie, there is something you can do for me,” Jason said then. Dick looked up at him a little hopefully. Jason hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward his bookshelf, packed full of books. “I can’t take everything with me. Take care of my books for me, alright?” Dick smiled and gave a nod in reply.

“Alright. Promise,” Dick replied. Another silence stretched between them. Jason rubbed the back of his neck nervously. A light blush spread across his face, and then he did the unexpected. He quickly leaned forward and kissed Dick, pressing his lips against the other man’s. It was a quick kiss, lasting no longer than five seconds. And yet, to Dick, it had lasted an eternity. It had been more than five years since Jason had kissed __him__.

Without another word, Jason left the apartment, leaving Dick to stand there in a silence…

“I hope you come home soon, Jay,” Dick murmured to himself.

* * *

_Four months later…_

“Sofia Falcone, former Matriarch of the Falcone Criminal Empire, has been murdered inside Blackgate Penitentiary. The suspect, Victor Zsasz, claimed responsibility in revenge for her part in Mario Falcone’s murder,” said the anchorwoman. Roy came through the door at that moment, still garbed in his Arsenal gear. He heaved a sigh and set his bow down by the door, then rifled through the mini fridge and grabbed a soda, cracking it open. He gave it a sip before looking around the room.

Jason was passed out, comfortable on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, and Kori was curled up in a ball at the end of the couch, fast asleep. Roy smiled and grabbed a slice of pizza out of the pizza box, and flopped down into the arm chair. Of course, no sooner than he sat down, little Lian waddled out of her bedroom, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Roy caught sight of her an pressed a finger over his lips to signal her to be quiet. He grabbed the remote and put on Disney, and the little girl hopped up into her father’s lap. Roy sighed contentedly as he looked over at his friends and held Lian in his arms; life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't really sure how to wrap this up, but this seemed like a good idea. ^^


End file.
